Monday, September 1, 2008

i wrote this when i was 16.

Across the street the trees have turned
Into the most painful color of grey
The wind is fearful to break their embrace
The sun burns out before reaching their tips
The birds fly pass in an anxious parades

Soon the leaves will tumble
And be brushed aside in the breeze
Not a soul will dare to look at the stripped statue
A lonely reminder that nothing can last

The compost and waste will gather
Around the tree's last antidote
Building a tower so invincible
That only God could break through

Silence fills my lungs
And my insides go on pause
I sat looking out my window
And realized my own reflection was staring back

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