Oh Days!! when birds and their songs. Hit the melancholic chords.

And the realization that,  we can’t afford happy.


When the wind, breezes… like its lost hope.

or when its song, is more of warning than calm.

How dare we wish, pray for better.


Days when voices under the sun!

Strain to be heard if not understood.

They become alarming. A Constant blur.

Like the sound of static on radio.

the strain.


Because tomorrow’s voices are not clear!

and in the moment sounds…

are tidbits of sadness.

And Loud Melancholy…

How about comfort in this sadness. Because it feels Okay to be.

How about hope in these voices who dare

Voices that struggle despite the harsh wind.

And the mocking birds.

How about sad songs!


Ye voices of worn out souls.

Sad with faith.

How about we rest a bit…. try feel happy.


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