and you say: "these are the birds"
and i hear them and i understand
and i say: "the birds are singing"
and you smile and nod your head
and you say: "i think i miss you"
and i hear you and i understand
and i say: "i think i love you
but we're all birds in the end."
YOU ARE READING
where the roads don't go
Poetryin·tro·spec·tion noun \ˌin-trə-ˈspek-shən\ : the process of examining your own thoughts or feelings
