Loss
The sun smiles at me,
and I turn my back.
Birds call to me,
and I pretend not to hear.
Warm breezes try to catch me,
and I run from them.
Spring has sprung,
but I have to go to work.
The sun smiles at me,
and I turn my back.
Birds call to me,
and I pretend not to hear.
Warm breezes try to catch me,
and I run from them.
Spring has sprung,
but I have to go to work.