no echo now but in the dull grey light
see passing birds that pause and watch us feed
our satiated faces lacking need
or understanding in their urgent flight
of what exactly is the human plight
or when our hunger turns into stark greed
the passerine just seeks an errant seed
and a safe place where it can spend the night
the human does not show the passing bird
this truth of life that everything's the same
since all of us make up a single cast
we're subject each of us to one hard word
as players in the sole eternal game
each doomed to pass in time into the past
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