Trees

The leaves outside.
They twist and twirl.

The trees have died.
And in the cold is a girl.
So pretty and so alone.
She made the city her own.

Scrapes scar her knees.
The trees whispering her dirty deeds.
Gave up her role.
As a caring sister.
Gave up on control.
Ever since he kissed her.

Uninvited.
Intruder.
The prey was sighted.
Not happy with one, he became a looter.
Taking all he could.
More than he even should.

So the girl ran, never to return.
Not until the trees were condemned to burn.

She makes the city a home.
Just so she can make it on her own.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

Poem

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