There’s something to be said.

There’s something to be said about the music in this world

and how it taunts and taints this little girl.

There’s something to be said about the man who died in vain

and how he looked for days for ways to ease his pain.

There’s something to be said about this ripped up letter

and how nothing could’ve made the writer feel better.

There’s something to be said about those thin to their bone

and about those who cry out when all alone.

There’s something to be said about the magic in the air

and about love and happiness and how it all isn’t fair.

There’s something to be said about the trees cut down

and the lack of good ol’ dirt on the city ground.

There’s something to be said about wishes and dreams

and the cold, harsh reality seeping through the seams.

There’s something to be said and it’s difficult to know

when what should’ve been said was lost in a woe.

There’s something to be said…said…said,

but wasn’t because the idea went dead.

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2 thoughts on “There’s something to be said.

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