In Memory of those we've lost

Oh, little bluebird, 

You work so hard. 

Hunting little bugs

in my front yard. 

You work and work

with not much play. 

You toil for your food

most of the day. 

Not realizing your beauty

you fly in the sky. 

I watch you with wonder

And ask myself why? 

We toil and labor

without any ease, 

You just flutter your wings

And go as you please. 

If we could trade places

I'm sure you would agree, 

We should be much better, 

You know, the world and me. 

But we made the decision

To complicate our lives, 

And all we get in return 

is a good case of the hives. 

So you be the little bluebird,

And we stay who we are. 

And at the end of the day

You, little bluebird, are better off by far.

-Mike Redwine