My brother has forgotten
The way ivy grows on fences
And trees.
Let me show you the way ivy grows.

You have to start small,
Smaller then a humming bird,
Pretend your here with me.
You wont see me if your passing by,
Im behind a ten foot fence.
I heard the gas pedal excelerate.
If your listening now.
You have to yank the thin vines
Until there's a basket ball court.
Yank the vines until you see
The dump behind the fence you
Always wanted to know what was
So private.  
It was a rusty wheel barrel next to a
Dead lawnmower.  
The years are a epithany like the lost baseballs.
Be the green monster that makes us forget.
Let the ivy hide what it hides.
But, one day you and I will have to loose our
Grip on the house we used to call home.