Pick Me Ups
The eerie sound of buzzards cry,
I sit alone with tearful eye,
The silence it surrounds my soul,
True meaning gone,
I've lost my goal.
My spirit needs a gentle shove,
I need an angel from above,
To guide me back to where I came,
I'm trapped within this crying game.
Within the garden there I see,
A soft pink rose, so wild and free,
Sweet butterfly, flits to and fro,
A pleasant sight, my feelings grow.
These little things are there to please,
Gentle, calming, filled with ease,
Time to pull myself together,
Determined to fight this stormy weather.
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