|
The herd is heard when in a herd,
the voice of many comes as one.
Hard to hear the herd however,
when the herd becomes broken.
Searching to be different somehow,
herded together all as one.
Cause indifferent to the herded,
long as the cause is the one.
Fighting for the right to be heard,
winning soothe's the angry herd.
I heard a song and it brought me back,
to a place of hard hoarding.
Herding sheep or hoarding herrings,
all's the same when we are one.
When I find the cause worth fighting,
you'll have heard I joined the herd.
As for now I think I'm different,
different as the other one.
__________________
And as she plays,
her sweet song of laughter
floats through the air
and warms my heart
|