Little Bird

Just a little poem I thought of, not one of my best.

Little bird,
You came to me again.
I know that I hurt your wings,
When we first met.

You just wanted to visit my home,
I closed that window a moment too soon.
Each morning you had awoken me with song,
And look how I repaid you.

Your feathers have faded from your hardships,
Your wing is slightly crooked,
And there are many birds outside my windows,
But you, little one, are my favorite.

Why did you return, little bird?
Do you still want to come into my home?
Will you still sing your song for me?
How can I be sure not to hurt you this time?

I'll leave my window open,
For you to come in and perch,
And so I can hear your song,
Can we live in harmony or will we hit a bad note?