there is a forest near my shed
and after i get out of bed
i wander trough the lichen pines
and wonder when it will be mine
the trees don’t speak the birds don’t either
the stars shine like they know it all
but there’re no clues to find out here
the winds are howling branches squeak
the moon lights up the mystery
but there’re no clues no clues for me
so i get back and go to bed
forgetting all the thoughts i had
becoming one with birds and trees
instead of getting on my knees
i’d rather be a naive fool
here in the white light of the moon
than returning to my chores
choosing between saint and whore
the trees don’t speak the birds don’t either
the stars shine like they know it all
but there’re no clues to find out here
the winds are howling branches squeak
the moon lights up the mystery
but there’re no clues no clues for me
Copyright (C) Francine Polis 2024
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