Fresh Eyes Bird Song

The universe gave us color before we learned to color our days with worry. It gave us birdsong before we filled every silence with noise. Still, we complicate the simple until simply being becomes complicated. We reason with warnings until wrong starts sounding right. Noise can make a lie sound logical. So breathe. Let the world remind you what your mind talked you out of. Maybe we don't need a different life. Maybe we need to return to this one—with fresh eyes and a mind that has finally stopped interrupting.

© Slam Poetry by Lucyalia 2024–2026. copyrighted. Use requires credit to @Lucyalia.

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