It’s crazy I think
How a tree can fall in a forest
With no one around
And for it to still crash
That it would still make a sound
That in some universe
In some way
We are nothing
Our standing
Our living
Is just leaves meeting each other during the fall
Curling and decaying
Without much thought
For us to be strangers
Ignorant of each other’s flaws
For us to never walk
To have my friends
For you to have yours
Never know the shape of your name
To have separate worlds
YOU ARE READING
Are You Sure You Want to Delete This?
PoetryPoetry is supposed to be the fruit of love, however it has become the fruit of self loathing and tumultuous love affairs that should've ended ages ago. I tend to think too much String half-pondered ideas And stick them to a board Stare at the post-i...
