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Sunday, October 7, 2012
The trees tower over you.
The rain mixes with the tears you shed
The wind whips your hair around.
The darkness envelopes your head.

The people walk around you.
They don't notice you there.
They only see you when they need you.
Then they pretend to care.

They live way up in the branches.
You are far below.
They use you to step up.
You help them grow.

You are just a passerby.
Nothing here is fair.
You only came to scream and cry.
You are happy you don't live there.

There by Leanne Herrera

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