Poetry

Alone

Stressed again, is the mother with her child

You leave her lost with in the wild

Waiting for someone with high morality

Lost in a state of your personal reality

In the woods again, you find yourself

Waiting for life to sort itself

The tree’s humbly start talking

Maybe it’s time for you to start walking

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s