The Sound of Birds and a Distant Factory
I sit outside, the sun is bright,
But not as bright, as the day before,
Memories come to me, like the gentle breeze
Breeze not strong enough, to push at the door.
I’ve never longed for flowers, as I long for the sunshine
Because flowers don’t imprint, on my pale white skin,
Flowers are for the dead, not the living
Sunshine makes me happy, more happy than I’ve been.
The birds chirp away, not because they’re happy
But because it’s their job, and they only do,
The birds never think, about my sunshine
They take it for granted, more than me or you,
So I’m sitting outside, with just the bright sun
I’m all alone today, but I still remain happy,
Flowers are dying, but I’m still alive,
The sound of birds, and a distant factory.