its 2:22am. and i'm stuck in my room shuffling between what's-an-attempt to interpret a poem for my lit mod term essay, humming corrinne may's songs, trying to forget the cruel cruel images of how people kill animals for their fur, and feeling really sleepy but can't get to sleep because of the above(s).

their lonely betters
as i listened from a beach chair in the shade
to all the noises that my garden made
it seemed to me only proper that words
should be withheld from vegetables and birds

a robin with no christian name ran through
the robin anthem which was all it knew
and rustling flowers for some third party waited
to say which pairs if any should get mated

not one of them was capable of lying
there was not one which knew that it was dying
or could have with a rhythm or a rhyme
assumed responsibility for time

let them leave language to their lonely betters
who count some days and long for certain letters
we too make noises when we laugh or weep
words are for those with promises to keep

the poem i need to interpret. am kinda clueless, but hopefully i'll figure it out. currently liking colbie calliat songs.favourite being 'the little things'. lovely song.

snll drifted away at 11:22 AM ----------