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Sorrow
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bettyjoe
Whyville Poet |
A strong wind howls through the giant trees,
and I know that it is full of sweet bitter sorrow.
And of all the pain that my heart feels,
I realize that my head is full of light lead.
My feet ache with anticipation
for I know that it will never work.
And my tears stain the ground beneath me,
running down my cheek onto the dark earth.
And the song that the swallow sings is sorrow,
louder and sadder it gets as I listen.
My head throbs to the beat of the rain and wind
and a new song emerges with the song of
Sorrow as the main line.
With all my heart I want the song to end,
but it never does, sometimes it is covered up
by the sunshine or birds' song, but it's still there.
Waiting, listening for the sound of a tear.
Then the swallow sings the chorus as the
Wind plays the base and the rain is the tenor.
And every time there is nothing but tears
and fear, and sorrow.
A strong wind howls through the giant trees,
and I know that it is full of sweet bitter sorrow.
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