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As i type this, my bird is puffed up in my hands. It's cold and he is sick. Though i hate to admit it, he is sure to die any minute. i'm crying my head off and clutching him to give him warmth. he just chirped slightly, so i hope he will be okay. but if not-

A musical composition,
Ready to be unfolded with the grace of a phoenix,
Chopin

Goodbye, my friend... farewell... cry