Reid@YWP

In a dew-drop, a little world exists 

A place turned blue and silver by the light 

That lingers well beyond the morning mist. 

In a dew-drop, a little world exists 

What used to be my everything 

has now turned into what feels almost like a burden. 

Old shadows break in the brand new walls 

The dirt projected by the naked winter giants of trees 

Stains bare wooden flesh with familiar rusty bandages 

Can you hear the roar of the crowd? 

The thousands of people, 

Kids, teens, adults and seniors. 

All screaming at the corrupt administration that we call a government. 

We will not be silenced. 

To the trees, 

Your green crowns standing proudly against the sky;

To the trees,

Trunks twisting every which way

Rooted firmly to the earth

With your crests in the clouds.

To the trees,

I talked to a tree just the other day, I was walking past and it did say,  

Well, what are you? 

Just a traveler. 

But what are you? 

Why, a human, of course, you didn’t know?