The Fleeing Bird
There's a pain only to remind her that love is a fleeing bird
like a weeping willow you should her heart cry at night
the sweetest melody you ever heard
no memory could compete with that sorrow we call love lost
or what would the broken heart give if it could let the tragedy unfold
it wouldn't fill the void or heal her broken heart
no it wouldn't even come close to replenish this lovers loss
as the century's diminish and millenniums continue to pound the truth home
Oh what a pain we call the fleeing bird
Copyright © Timothy Jacks | Year Posted 2016
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