The Room
The Room
by Sparacio
The bushes are cold and gray
green is of the leaf yet cold is the day
trees bend over the roof
yearning for the indweller to see
the air is gamed with life
yet the man sees no evil
the house breaths once then twice
the man hears nothing
within the gate a bird, picks its food
the man sees nothing
within the garden the insect craws another day
yet the man sees nothing
the door opens
the air and trees peek in
the man walks out
the trees are in the man is out.
by Sparacio
The bushes are cold and gray
green is of the leaf yet cold is the day
trees bend over the roof
yearning for the indweller to see
the air is gamed with life
yet the man sees no evil
the house breaths once then twice
the man hears nothing
within the gate a bird, picks its food
the man sees nothing
within the garden the insect craws another day
yet the man sees nothing
the door opens
the air and trees peek in
the man walks out
the trees are in the man is out.
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