Like A Willow Tree Dances
I hear some far-off song
or perhaps a little ditty,
And I may hum along
as I stroll throughout the city.
A dove begins to croon
the song I heard the world singing
it is a mournful tune
while that bird ‘round me is winging
But I skip through the crowds,
ignoring all the staring folk,
(I know my smile clouds
their somber lifestyle’s yoke.)
How can I bring myself
to sorrow for their discomfort?
Should joy be on a shelf,
Till no one objects or retorts?