From high atop the city square

She stood upon a platform there,

And with commanding voice

Screamed into the wind

Everything she knew to say

And when the day was gone

The words were empty

And her breath spent and tired

She stood and listened

To the bustling crowds below

But they did their bidding just the same:

A dollar here,

A nickel there,

and a loaf of bread…

And the tiny bird who’d given every breath





By them all.


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