Below the pink clouds,
Laughs and birds are heard.
But it never seems to draft
The pain in a lonely soul’s heart.
The lo-fi keep beating on,
Like the heart of a human man.
Conversations exchange, for love,
Misfit to fit inside a glove.
The pink swans in the pond,
They are alike, but afar.
Just when the ball starts rolling,
Are we alike, or afar?
Now the pink clouds have vanished,
And so has the topic of conversation.
Suddenly, there is pain,
In the heart of a lonely soul.
The more we talk the less we know,
Have forgotten what these feet are for.
Birds flock like the water flock men,
And we forget each other’s names, again.
The freezing evening has come,
And some leave, sadly left alone
Clouds move in racer speed,
Is there anything more left for me?
We have given our all; questions.
The rain slowly dry up from the street,
And in the disco light they loose,
A voice to call back on someone like you.
© Written by Sparkle
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