If Frodo can carry the ring and its weigh, to Mordor, into the fires of Mount Doom, I can walk this earth carrying my backpack and its weigh.

The plague of the green hills:
It brings on our dizziness.
Don't fall now
Or you'll break
In your fragile solitude.

"I told you,
To your face,
I don't love him.
What kind of a hint could you ask for?"

Darling
Remember when you told me
How everyone you've ever dated
Loved someone who wasn't you,
you were just a place-holder?
I know you told me,
He, and everyone in the future,
Will be what you are.

The worst truth:
At least you know what you are
And what I am;
I hope to find out my self.

My sweet mountain girl
With your eyes of dirt,
Let me roll around in them.
Let me run my fingers through the vines
You grew so long
And then cut away.

I'm dizzy from the grapes we pressed;
The plague of these green hills.

This house is no home
This town has no roads
Don't ever think this is permanent for me
And we can fake it until the summer comes
Because I have been dizzy since my death.

My spirit still goes.

I stepped nto the people
To find that 4 people where "joining" me.

The driver
A middle-age women
A man, sitting towards the rear of the bus
And...

"...down.
How yah brother?
Thats good!"

He muttered something under his breathe.
And then,
"...the sunset. The sun is going down.

Bye now."

I thought about this poem
And what I could mean.

You spoke of intangible love:
The leaves in the breeze,
The sound of the waves
Or falling rocks.

But you fight against love
From the ones you truly love.
The people who love you.

A sort of tangible love.

So fragile is she,
The girl made of porcelain;
With every giant step
Towards something...
No, Someone new,
She breaks.
Allowing them to gather the pieces
And glue them back together.

She sits idly on the shelf,
watching the world pass.
Forever a treasure
No one wants to buy
And I have not the money,
Though I walk the aisles everyday
Eyeing the statue I long to set up
On the bedside table of my room.