Jun 2013
A seed grows
Where it falls
And at a
Ripe age
With leaves
It looks out
Sees other
Beds of earth
Where it might’ve
Taken root
But didn’t
It weeps autumn
Sighs through winter
And dreams of
Other soil again
Where it falls
And at a
Ripe age
With leaves
It looks out
Sees other
Beds of earth
Where it might’ve
Taken root
But didn’t
It weeps autumn
Sighs through winter
And dreams of
Other soil again
I was thinking the other night over a cigarette about how I sometimes wish I would've ended up somewhere else. Dan said, "We all wanna be somewhere else than where we live, but that's not reality it's just point of view." And as I smoked, I looked at the old maple tree across the path, and put two and two together. And by pitying the tree, being stuck where it is, I found a metaphor to pity myself.
(30/Chicago)
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