there are little words
that cheep and squeak
and know not what secrets
that they keep
they think themselves
the lion’s roar
but they fly not,
falling to the floor
piling up into so much dust
there are little words
that cheep and squeak
and know not what secrets
that they keep
they think themselves
the lion’s roar
but they fly not,
falling to the floor
piling up into so much dust