Songbird

The songbird sings a lovely song,
the spring is in her tune.
And though the flowers flex their powers,
her voice is the brightest bloom.

The songbird sings a lonely song,
it’s raining in her soul.
The long years and buckets of tears
have taken quite the toll.

The songbird sings a bitter song,
the world can be very cruel.
It took her best, it smashed her nest,
and made her feel the fool.

The songbird sings an ugly song,
she doesn’t see her beauty.
The world’s lies clouded her eyes –
her flaws are all she sees.

The songbird sings of sweet rebirth,
for all her dreams came true.
Loved at last – the clouds have passed;
only the sky is blue.