A Bird's Sorrow

The lonely, broken bird sings a song. Its chirps and tweets sang of the blues. We all listen, but scarcely help that bird fly along. I'm a distant admirer seeing into a soul's long. People see the reality of me with minds confused. The lonely, broken bird sings a song. We often bite our tongue, sympathy is the absence of strong. Sorrow travels in ones, but love travels in twos. We all listen, but scarcely help that bird fly along. We see works of art burn never to ask what's wrong. They crash and sink into depression, while we cruise. The lonely, broken bird sings a song. We silently oxygenate flames while fire is prolonged. Never to extinguish flames with a helpful hand used. We all listen, but scarcely help that bird fly along. Lyrics were cries of damaged wings and heart's prong. No one wakes up, everyone hits snooze. The lonely, broken bird sings a song. We all listen, but scarcely help that bird fly along.