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Matthias Pantaleon

Rookie - 279 Points (August 24,1984 / Oronija Island, Nigeria)


Coming back from school to a sleepy town
Where the wind makes mockery of our roof
The sun smile at the lake which over looks
A torn out cubicle where my family lives

I'm used to the birds chirp along the path
On this hot afternoon they were not there
I fear we've lost the one thing that gives
Us a sense of pride in our helpless state

As I make it down the sloops which turns
Into a little garden just outside our cubicle
I saw a flock of birds on the snowbell tree
They make a colourful sight in the distance

I stood there for a while watching them
What do they care when they could bake
beautiful songs than man could ever make
With all the violin and piano in the world

Submitted: Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Edited: Thursday, June 12, 2014

Topic of this poem: life

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

We may not be wealthy with big cars and mansion but we are as rich as we could be with birds in our garden

Comments about this poem (Birds by Matthias Pantaleon )

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  • Gold Star - 15,939 Points Akhtar Jawad (5/14/2014 10:56:00 PM)

    What do they care when they could bake beautiful songs than man could ever make
    With all the violin and piano in the world
    The vocal music is the real divine music. (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »

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