I'm painful
But it's not for mine
Feeling sorrow
For my young ones
Who are still
Waiting for me.
I'm flapping my wings
Continuously
But in vain
Unable to go there
To feed them
Only ruffling my feather.
But still
I'm satisfied
That I didn't hover over
The young ones
To dives out of the nest
To lodge on a high crag.
They are four weeks old
And can flutter out
From their nest
Urged along by my call.
Dr. Ashutosh
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