by Thomas Hews

Created on: January 26, 2009

I am the tree where no birds sing,

and the grass at my stump is brown.

I am the stone that ambles along

as I fall through the grass; alone.

The colours that grip me, the greys and the browns

are a subtle reminder of the solitude I face.

I was promised the world, and the company to keep

my mind in its place.

But still I find no solace in my bare boughs,

nor a peace in my travels; alone.

If nature has taught me a thing of my life,

it's to never expect what you doubt you'll receive.

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