All I hear
everyday
are songs of love,
if I can sing
of many things
(then) why can’t they?
All I feel
suddenly
is emptiness,
tired of words
that always sound
(so) meaningless.
They keep on telling me
of what they have lost
and how they are now
counting the cost.
All I hear
everyday
are songs of love,
if I can sing
of many things
(then) why can’t they?
Copyright Keith Ames
