viernes, 10 de julio de 2015

The Tree

Standing in front of the water
tall and strong
with all my branches and my leaves falling
in step with the fresh July wind
I saw a woman watching me
as if I were a work of art
she was watching me fixedly
as if she were taking a photograph
but only with her eyes
I wonder what an old thing like me could offer to...
to such a lively piece of skin and bones
shouldn't be me the one who's taking the pic?
not many people come to see me that way
I spend nights and nights all alone
sometimes moon talks to me
she says she feels so lonely in the sky
even when she's surrounded by stars, thousand of them
it's nice talking to her in a quiet language we could create
I live days surrounded by many different things too
but it doesn't mean company
if you ever asked yourself why do I throw leaves
it's because they're not just leaves
they're stories i've kept since a lot of time
I can't keep them forever, nobody can actually
they are all so different and each one of different weight
"morning brings a mystery, evening makes it history"
we all have times when we collect
times when we throw things we don't need
times when we don't change nothing at all
and it's perfectly fine

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