I haven’t written a song
In what seems like years
And it feels infinitely wrong
Because it was an act I held so dear
For I am sick of melancholy
But sadly that is now what I am
And maybe it is my folly
But for it I feel less of a man
For it seems when my heart was stollen
So too was my mind
For it seems that since I have fallen
A part of me has died
2 dogs, two rabbits & 3 birds sit on a road.
For its a place to be not a place to move through,
For some it’s a home with smells as sounds.
For some it’s just a path,
A path leading homeward bound.
When the people who view the road as a path begin to value the path as a place,
Then they will know happiness,
They will know why others take other paths and why some never get to the end of the road.