and yet the trees remain ever so green -
the sound of the cars remain alive
and the birds still sing their songs of joy.
How can we be ever so proud of choice,
when everything around us are as they are?
We have put crowns in our heads heavily,
that we seldom see the beauty in the gray.
for today, the sky has turned dull, so to speak;
but I don't hear any complaints nor judgement;
from any of the those who are free -
they have always been there, singing
singing of the joys of life in your psalms -
The crown has served its purpose,
it is old, and it is tarnished.
Why am I still wearing it?
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