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Poetic T Oct 2014
I'm in the branches as they
No longer look up, heads always
Looking at the floor looking
Downcast
Heavyhearted
Gloomy
At what you see everyday
You look down never up,
The children always look upwards
See me smiling,
I give a little wave
And a wink,
And I'm off up the tree with in a blink
Trees are my freedom
There my playground between
Sky
Air
&
Land
"I am an acrobat, a flier"
I'm free as a bird but with out the wings,
If the elders looked up the things
That they would see,
The sky is imagination,
"It will set you free"
But it is only the young
Who above do look, as there imagination
Lets them see what they want to see
And what they glance at is me..

— The End —