Currently Untitled

She is a songbird

Outside my window.

She polishes my spring mornings

With her soft serenades.

 

When the cold slips back in,

Her and her songs fly far away.

I don't doubt that she still sings for me

When I'm a million miles away.

 

She is a songbird

Outside my window.

And she always returns.

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741