No Matter What

by Idiosyncratic   Oct 7, 2004


Although it may be murky
Water rushes by
The birds are unhappy
But still they fly

The rocks, although mishapen
Still tumble like their own
And all the sickly rodents
Still rush to get back home

The flowers sad heads droop
But still they grow, not thrive
And the trees stand above them
Glad to be alive

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