As the bird flies high
Up in the sky
Singing it's melody
The people below are walking
And they enjoy their own company
As the bird flies high
Up in the sky
The trees below are growing
And their leaves enjoy the rustling
Of the frosty winters air
As the bird flies high
Up in the sky
You below wonder
What you'll do
Or where you'll go
And where you life may take you
As the bird flies high
Up in the sky
The people below are sleeping
And now I've got you thinking
YOU ARE READING
Late night poetry
PoetryI want to hear feedback on the poems I write at late hours when my brain finds itself at peace. Enjoy :)
