undone parrot
Trees,
pale and colorful.
Turning to a sickening brown.
Just like the trees,
the woman’s face
colors and withers.
As the leaves turn red,
so does her eyes.
The branches wilt,
and her frame,
the same.
It’s that time of year,
when the coldness,
the barren emptiness,
appear.
No one to comfort
the woman,
and the trees that stand so near,
and yet so far.
“I see that you and I share a same fate,” she says as
she embraces a trunk,
the decoy of her imagination.
“Although you stand strong,
you can’t hide your decay,
your death becomes apparent,
and everyone tramples on your
fallen tears.”
The branches fall,
a memorial
to their demise.
That though it is cold,
though they are dead inside,
their fate is that they still
have to live,
to see what they have done
to their fallen woes.
Treating it as garbage,
and children falling into their grief
as a playground.
I see the tree leaves fall.
tired stream