dead song in a bird

drain the yellow
from buttercups
All you got is cold day grey

Or the pinkish blush
from summer rose  Petals left
Just decompose
don't know any purpose

to lush new plump things
can't find that much use
In the reasoning of things

The fresh new birthed babe
The dead song in a bird
Pretty suicide bee

on a terminal felled tree
Can't find that much point

in god's reasoning of things
Don't see that much sense
Way life only brings

cold day grey

M