The forest
Sometimes
I feel
Like an old tree
There are
Scratches in
My bark
Life
Memories
Scars
And parts of me
Are twisted
By the wind
By the rain
By the process
Of living
And I try
You know
To stand tall
Watch all
That's behind me
And not think
Too much
About the bits
That lie
Ahead
Or the axe
That will swing
One way
Or another
And through my
Leaves
I try to feel
Things
See things
With sightless
Eyes
Draw up the
Water
Push out
The shit
And I guess
Sometimes
I sway
However firm
I think
My roots are
And the earth
That gives me
My life
My blood
Is often
Unforgiving
For I know
That when
Eventually
I fall
No wood
Will mark
My spot
For
Another tree
Will stand in my
Place
And no one
Will be
Any
The
Wiser
Jackie Phillips
Sat 24th Jan 2015 03:57
Like :-)