What Once Was,Mature

It's funny how cold the birds can sing.
Whistles and calls, they all seem so bright,
but in the dead of night, when the noise of life takes a break,
the songs of joy tell a different story.

It's funny how I remember you.
Smiles and laughs seem so full of joy,
when in reality they just passed time.
The colours of your hair mark the stages of our growth.
Ginger when we met, Red as we fell in love,
Black when you broke my heart.

Our lives were intertwined,
We faced the hardest times head on.
A beaming smile protecting the brightest beauty.

After all those nights on the phone,
I can't even remember your voice.

It's funny how cold the birds can sing.
Earlier they echoed hope and joy,
now all I hear is a death rattle.

The End

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