go without me, please
you bring me to my knees
the feeling of floating through the breeze
dragged down near the trees
roots grasping up toward a feeling always fleeting like the bees
finding summer somewhere else
bearing down without myself
knowing there's no time to make a move without something left to prove
are we at the end of the line?
the end of the rope and the rhyme?
rhythm is gone like the sweet winter song
left to blossom all along as the warming spring will thaw