Kandace Mack
Chirp on, lil’ champ.
You’re on cloud 9,
crooning grey-tinted blues,
playing trumpet with God.
Sing that song young soul,
and bring us a piece of heaven
with that sweet, sappy voice
that swept our kitchen at twilight.
Play your lil’ tune, poor boy,
as you climb toward the stars
and march on up the railing,
riding the railroad to glory
Rock on, baby bird.
They gunned you gutless,
clipped your wings mid-flight,
but you soared anyway.
Rock on, baby bird.
See you Sunday Morning?
Take care to sing softly
when you pass through the gates.
Kandace Mack is a junior Theatre major and Creative Writing minor. She enjoys cats and long philosophical conversations that make her spiral (but in a good way).
