Game face that's been all for show
Twisted arms when the wind still blows
Lost leaves on this dying breeze
No noise
No snivels
Not even a sneeze
Lonely stood in a desert field
Waters gone nothing left to yield
God's will to breed a human race
A silent tear rolls down his face
So what's next in his tricks and branding
To outdo,
his,
Last tree standing.

JJB