Whistling through the halls, I hear the songbirds sing.
They have their pecking order, and it makes my ears ring.
The bell does toll, for the toil we seek.
And that’s what I saw on that one street.
Under the light, the mist clouded view,
Leaving behind, a delicate dew.
The morning sun rose, and brightened the day;
The clouds dissipated, and we wonder what to say.