A tree in winter is like a newborn in the

womb in winter living things do die the

season’s change and dead things are brought

back to life an empty womb is as death

but in one moment, change comes and life begins

Jealousy is a disease that eats your flesh like a parasite

Love is to an open sky as loathing is to a pretty cemetery

Why marvel at the pretty cemetery no one will get up

and say thank you for my beautiful grave

What dreams come, what dreams may go

will forever haunt you no matter how old

Void of vanity a dark hole like a blind man’s world

for each goes on their own, no one’s hands

they hold reaching as a child for a mother

in a box as she’s carried away tears streaming

down out of her comfort zone

At night faced with the dreaded sound unheard

Shivering from a ghostly haunting the silence comes

Looking around howling and screaming

not hearing an answer as a person lay hearing

arose panicking never to hear again.

A bed filled with a being now empty yet still

there a room full of color bears, full of life,

yet dead a child moving heart breathing living

yet dying for the lost of one mother is to hard too bare

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