A thousand colored folds stretch toward the sky,
Atop a tender strand,
Rising from the land,
'Til killed by maiden's hand.
Perhaps, as a token of love.
Perhaps, to say goodbye.
What is it?
My love, when I gaze on thy beautiful face,
Careering along, yet always in place -
The thought has often come into my mind
If I ever shall see thy glorious behind.
It could be delivered by mail, email, by hand, or even by pigeon.
It is sometimes short, sometimes lengthy, and with deep, profound, or simple feelings.
What is it?
When I'm lost, I hurt the most, as well as when not had at all. I’m often hard to express and easy to ignore. You can give me to just one person, or to many. What am I?
I have around 5,000 feathers and I'm a bird native to America. People say Benjamin Franklin wanted me to be the national bird of the United States.
What am I?
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