Call of the Tired

Your mind was broken
You spirit was beat
You spilled like a fruit stand on a hot city street
Hover and whistle
Flutter and sigh
They won’t hear you
They won’t even hear you and why should they?
The birds belittle your song
Your energy ripples
It flows into mine
I follow your rhythms
I follow your rhythms in time
I wanted to follow the sound
The call of the weary
The song of the tired
An ode to the weak and the uninspired
And the birds belittle your song
The birds don’t care
If the earthquaks rage
They hover in flight
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