Library
Winter Time
Winter Time
1 min
189
When the sun hides
In the wintertime.
Nobody hears the singing birds anymore.
They fly back to their nests to cover from the cold.
Every corner is covered in the powdery cold.
Reminds us to sit at home.
Today I will leave my house.
In search of those sounds, I crave.
Maybe it's a singing bird or maybe not.
Everlasting a search it shall be, in my bleak wintered mind.
