I walk a tightrope and its a fine one
Between genius and insanity
Seeing connections even when there are none

God, I hope I don't fall.

From the smell in your eye
And the look of your perfume
I assume you'll turn my room,
And sense, upside down and inside
                      out.

As I sit, I stare
At the lake before me.
In peace, without a care
I can think clearly.

A green fir, rooted strong
Parallel across the lake
I have known it my life long
Never once thought it to be at stake.

The tree took root,
Simultaneous to me
I never ventured off route
And neither did he.

One, Five, Ten, and Eighteen
We matured, or so we thought
Together we’d careen
Into ideas and what we’d been taught.

Then wires, as if grown,
Creeped out of my tree
Threads, thin and tight, were sown
Reaching out to me.

“Pull!”, and like a bride’s gown
Down came my tree
I watched it topple down
As I left for University.