Broken Spirit's Rain

She coos and thinks she's happy
or she tries to be, in her way,
but he constantly reminds her
of wasting coos in vain.

His feathers glare to show her dull
a tempered beak pronounced
To keep it sharp he pecks her head
then complains of a hollow sound.

He fluffs her nest and feeds her well,
as he listens to his coo
She holds her heart beneath her wing
He doesn't know he should.

This nest of him will reek of coo
It's echo made in vain
A hollowed home's the work
of a broken spirit's rain.