the tree

November 18, 2010
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I feel the moon upon my skin,
And the wind push on my chest,
But I stand still upon the ground,

I close my eyes and walk in my mind.

The guilt made my face twinge,
The fear lay through my heart,
My eyes glisten with death,
My hand rolled into a fist.

I open my eyes and charge,

I plunge my fist to the tree,

I fall to the soft ground,

I close my eyes and imagine,

The world as it’s supposed to be.

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