He was in the tree,
brown, wind-swept hair,
eyes that reflected a t h o u s a n d
words.
He was the paint,
and the tree,
the canvas.
He was the air,
and the tree,
the lungs.
He was that rainbow,
and the tree,
the rain.
Because if I were the clouds,
then he was the storm.
Armor of happiness,
shield of
s
m
i
l
e
s.
I put wear
a different person
that I wish could be me.
"Hello" we said
as the tree shook,
just like my heart
that shivered with
g
l
e
e.
And we sat together,
watching heaven,
and the angels rained upon us,
their touch like a f e a t h e r.
But shame,
that we were sitting in the same
tree,
and yet,
he couldn't even see the real me.
YOU ARE READING
tree.
Poetry"a feast of words about a girl's opinions about life, her love for trees, and a certain boy."
