No longer Green

January 25, 2009
By Rebecca Bastarache SILVER, Acushnet, Massachusetts
Rebecca Bastarache SILVER, Acushnet, Massachusetts
9 articles 26 photos 3 comments

A tree, come spring, is blushing with life
- as we were on those warm afternoons-
Two sets of apple red lips.
Hands roaming like ivy on brick.
Sun existing in our smiles
-but midnight deciet hid in your eyes.
And in the heat of the summer, we would shed our skin.

A tree, come fall, loses itself in its craveing for beauty, as i slowly broke into peices in your hands
-no longer the natral green-
I've been defiled and raped by your nature.

A tree, come winter, is stripped of its youth, as you left me cold and naked that night, left only with the cold,sour aftertaste of your lies.
I now lay in crystal tears that freeze my soul and cloak me in time stopping misery.

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