O showy bird,
You strut so fine
With iridescent feathers,
You're dressed to the nines,
All purple, green, and blue,
Spread out like a giant fan.
But you nervously gaze about you
Like a frightened, preening man.
You look so regal, majestic
But the desperate cry you make
Causes any onlooker
To know your bravado is fake.
Why can't you relax and rest?
Is your tension what makes you so grand?
Why can't you chill out and realize
You were fashioned by God's loving hand?
You don't have to be so cocky!
You don't have to prove yourself.
If you were more pleasant, it would be easier
For us to enjoy your wealth.
O showy bird,
You strut so fine.
You shimmer and sparkle
In the sunshine.
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