He lit up our world,
because his world was dark.
He healed our wounds,
because he suffered from a broken heart.
He journeyed very far and very wide,
he was looking for something,
that fact he could not hide.
A droopy face, a wistful smile,
and then he was off, ready to fly another mile.
He never realized the magic he created,
he never saw the gloomy faces transformed; joyful and elated.
He was our songbird, our sad little lark.
He lit up our world,
because his world was dark.
~a.m
YOU ARE READING
A collection of musings
PoetryThe words I feel, and don't always have the courage to say.
