Be amoung it.

I see a shadow beneath my feet, Telling me to stay not to leave.
I stand on the top of the steps with a hating greave.
I close my eyes and whip them with my sleeve.
I turn around and walk to bed.
I don't think I need to get fed.


But no you will go down those stairs.
And go where there sit wooden chairs.
You will listen to that pretty grey dove.
You feel like you can give it care and love.