he waits for an answer, to a wish not spoken, to a song never sung, to a poem never written, a life never lived he waits for the wind to call him, as he watches the birds fly away, oh g0d, he wishes he could fly away with them he wishes he had wings so he could fly away sometimes he wonders, what do the birds think when they perch on a rope and stare at the sunset fading under the treetops
