Out here in the dampened weeds
this is where I sit
pondering this day
of winter/of spring
the line so blurred between

The sky is gray
hovering over me
like guilt/like temptation
the line so blurred between

Old birch tree
staring at me
such as mother/such as father
the line so blurred between

Sitting here
listening to thoughts in my head
They tell me
to listen/to rebel

Yet with
the line so blurred between
I don't know what to do
it is so hard to tell