Oh, my little baby bird
don't let me hear you cry
I know where the tears come from
but I have no lullaby
to soothe you on to sleep
Has the world held down on you
too harsh for your song to carry
across the desert where life abides
I wish they cared for you
and could think
to be wary
You know that I would cradle you
and hold you away from the wind
near to my breast in the winter
close to heart, within
Yet it doesn't bring you to me
in those desolate times
when I feel you begin to tear apart
as you break under the weight
of a soulful cry
never breaking through
it touches the whisper
a whimper
to die
When will my heart
hear it,
let me open the doors
come in.
S. Elizebeth Turnquist
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