Chopped Down Trees in
Kentucky
Drew Johnson
Mrs. Gustafson’s 11th Grade;
Principal or Director: Kevin Rogers
Marcus High School, Argyle, Texas,
USA
Off
in the distance
It
travels farther and farther
Away
So
close yet so far
It's
whisper in my ear
It's
flirtations glance
I
see out the comer of my eye
But
in front of me is nothing
Nothing anymore
No
longer are my steps the same
Such
a weight
Such
a fight to move along
All
because life left me in the dust
Far
far away
Or
maybe too close
To
real- to painful
To
hard
To
accept
I'm
just an ant in a bubble
Caught
in some grand collogue
An
ant among many
How
will I ever escape
If
the undertow of life
Normal
life
That
painful- hard life (busy as a bee)
Sweeps
me under and into
My
own insanity
My
own personal hell
So
I will bury the squirrels
Scattered
and splattered
A
lifeless ant on the road
No
more walk
No
more talk
The
remnants so sad
Not
really a hero
Not
really anything at all
Not
a soldier
Not
a worker
Not
royalty either
The
smile blowing in the wind
It's
not time to bend
For
the trees await
The
holy heaven's gate
Live
the life
Don't
deal with strife
So
I bury the squirrels
Not
for you
Me
Or
them
But
for life that has passed me by
So
funny
Those
eyes
Black
crystal orbs
That
don't see anything at all
But
rather old pictures planted in time
Running
up a tree
Chasing
a girl squirrel
Kinky
but not heavy
No
weight
Every
step is flight
Every
flight is floating on a cloud
No
more chains
No
more pains
So
I bury you
Cuz
a tire
Killed
your fire
A
fire I started but let the wind
Blow
it away
We
I can barely see it at all
So
I bury the squirrel
It
makes me cry
Wish
to die
I
don't know why
For
they wouldn't
So far away
I bury my squirrels
Those
white dreams
Happy
smiles
An
ant in a bubble
A piece among many
Colliding and not noticing
Where life is just a state of mind
And
no hope
Never
to be seen again