See-saw

Multiple birds serenade the air in the morning and like people, some seem to have a purpose, others you want to choke. I sit and smoke cancer every morning while sipping on my caffeine fix and contemplate. Why do some birds even try to sing? What are they so joyful for when they sound like a car wreck? Yet every morning, they sing as if they are pleased with annoying me so. I listen and try to understand them like I do people, some sing beautiful and some I want to send to hell with the idiots I know in the world. I have to remember that they too, like the ugly, inhumane people in this world serve a purpose. What is that purpose? For me it is to have a heart and to realize that looks and songs of people (and birds) do not define them. For instance: The blue jay shimmers with blues and silvers and blacks, yet he sings like a sick cat on his last wind. Woodpeckers, do they even carry a melody? Or does the constant hole drilling count for a beat? Every morning I laugh out loud at the mocking bird, he mocks not only the tweets and twerps of the competition, he stirs up this screeching dog next door as well. They bark back and forth like they are on a seesaw, to see who can get higher, or who will fall off and fade away. I wonder if we amuse birds or if they even care.