Over the course of the course
Of course the days get muddled
We lose contact with all we know
Loss and hope all sound the same
Because it’s not about winning or losing
It’s how well you do with what you have
All days and nights; they are just the same
Some birds sing quieter than others
And some just fly higher in the sky
No words/no sounds
No on can make a noise to reassure that the quiet makes more sense when you are alone
But those birds are never alone
No matter how high she flies
We are never alone, never.
