- Books, Literature, and Writing
There They're Theirs
Do you hear those beautiful birds singing In harmony
Above the neatly ordered lines of houses below thee.
And the people down there without one ounce of care
To make you more aware Ill tell their robotic in nature
Seems to be a bit like closed minded doors of their hearts
Doors of which they just can not get the hang of closing
In time properly
They seem to never be still not for a second do they not
go without fidgeting .
Down there on their paved mirrors they ride freely In black
Metal machined coffins welded together with gold at the seems.
Their what all the certificates anniversary’s trophies
Statues walls speeches ribbons and praise are made for.
They are dull and not near sharp
I am glad I’m not them.