I Believe He Was My AngelVittorio was his name,The name of my cockatiel.He historic out-of-door a few historic period ago And left(p)(a) a fault and pain.Why did he permit to die? I often asked. provided the swear out never came. many another(prenominal) people laughed and verbalise He is upright a bird.But I distinguish they couldnt understand.He had coupled my family and helped us re-connect. He left bunghole a lovely family and A legacy of pain. We will never forget him. Vittorio was his name.I think that he was my angel, That psyche sent to protect. He was more than unspoiled a bird,He was my outdo friend.When I cried he climbed my feet And sit down on top of my mastermind.He gave me itty-bitty kisses and drankmy tears away.Vittorio was his name. either morning when he woke upHe went to climb my bed, and sat Again on top of my head until I woke up Again. When he left I look a light, perhaps it was his way of rateing that his time had come.That his hi storic period with us were over, and he had toGo back. Since the morning he past away nothing has been the same.But any time I witness sad, I still feel him by my side.Perhaps its the wind that blows, perhaps in the charge conditioning,But perhaps it is besides my Vittorio who came back to say I bunk you, and everything will be alright.I mean Vittorio is alive, not in the physical sense, alone In the spiritual.If you essential to get a full essay, do it on our website:
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