Metaphors

The empty house is a metaphor, Of a family gone away, Where they went? Who knows, But they are gone to stay.

The birds singing in the morning, Tell you about a clock, The hands spining in inches per hour, But still they never stop.

If life had a metaphor, I think it would be a song, Enjoyable evey second, But never very long,

The girl in the corner, Is a metaphor of yourself, A pretty face to look at, But more than a trophy on the shelf,