Friday, November 11, 2005

the guy under the tree

as i sit on the bench
my eyes stare blankly ahead
at sights blurred and dishreveled
chaotic yet potentially beautiful

i hear the sound of leaves
whispering endlessly in the breeze
giving life to a lonely tree
that stands proud beside me

the day seems dimmer every passing second
clouds make their way
through an ocean of uneasyness
of freedom and blue

cold wind pierces my body
as night feeds from the light
darkness is disturbed
by unwelcome flashes of memories

rushing feelings of love and friendship
bundled into a lifetime of happiness
struggled its way through sadness
fleeing, dispersing, surging

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