skyalf
Bluelighter
yeah, its me, reconstituted into a more pronounceable nickname. anyways, i dont think i'm exactly done with this piece, but honestly, i just wanted to post here again 
what is it like to be
a tree,
roots so dark and thick
down in the deep
of the street,
paved and trashed and cleaned
it looks so neat
through the clay
though i cant help but say
i'll rot away
anyway
always last to stay
up on my feet
in the sand its so sweet
junk-yard full of dreams
and so it looks, so it seems
foul gasoline
i was so green
so thin
so tall and strong and lean
just what you've seen
i root
in household refuse
i wont be used
just abused
jimmi's down with dudes
and Jane was here
in July
nineteen sixty nine
she looked so fine
curvy line
and her hands
frilly underpants
and that's the theme
on my skin
she screwed a guy named tim
and its all marked
on my bark
scarred so goddamn dark
some' that time cannot fix
two figures made of sticks
holding hands and a heart
bleeding them apart
its so sad, its so sick
she is sixty six
and wheres the time that is gone
years spent alone
in a room filled with dust
hearts in brown rust
whats with my soul
in control
wooden head and bones
its my seed at my feet
green and so upbeat
so bright and sweet
and too young to see
what's coming soon
after i am gone
when my leaves fall
to be one with dirt
and my shade wanes
survived by time
skyalf
what is it like to be
a tree,
roots so dark and thick
down in the deep
of the street,
paved and trashed and cleaned
it looks so neat
through the clay
though i cant help but say
i'll rot away
anyway
always last to stay
up on my feet
in the sand its so sweet
junk-yard full of dreams
and so it looks, so it seems
foul gasoline
i was so green
so thin
so tall and strong and lean
just what you've seen
i root
in household refuse
i wont be used
just abused
jimmi's down with dudes
and Jane was here
in July
nineteen sixty nine
she looked so fine
curvy line
and her hands
frilly underpants
and that's the theme
on my skin
she screwed a guy named tim
and its all marked
on my bark
scarred so goddamn dark
some' that time cannot fix
two figures made of sticks
holding hands and a heart
bleeding them apart
its so sad, its so sick
she is sixty six
and wheres the time that is gone
years spent alone
in a room filled with dust
hearts in brown rust
whats with my soul
in control
wooden head and bones
its my seed at my feet
green and so upbeat
so bright and sweet
and too young to see
what's coming soon
after i am gone
when my leaves fall
to be one with dirt
and my shade wanes
survived by time
skyalf
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