Sing That Song Poem by John Shea

Sing That Song



Sing it you twitching little whiskered bird
Loud and late night song I have heard

The melody at times fine and soothing
On some early morns

A fine way to breed hate and discontent
for
One song you sent left me sleepless

That was the one that might make you peepless.

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John Shea

John Shea

Cherry Point N.C.
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