The Swallows
I imagined myself
One of the swallows
On the telephone pole wire
We will fly high
In the summer sky
And rest on the breeze
To my swallow friend
The same wind
Will take care of you and I
We will build our nest in the trees
Even as a bird
I will carry my heart on my sleeve
But the world
Couldn’t wash it away
Not a care in the world
Just when my next meal is going to be
Will it be a little high?
Or a little low
Who knows…
Copyright © Phatt Matt | Year Posted 2016
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