walk through the woods
walk through the woodshear the caw of a crow
so many trees around
closer they seem to grow
harder to walk through the trees
the branches tear at the skin
blood leaving a trail
hope for an end goes thin
one step back
the clearing ahead seems out of place
walk into the moonlight
the soul thinks its safe
the wounds start to heal
the lungs are at ease
heart rate goes down
finally away from the trees
the path that was taken
now parts at the seam
a safe journey home
from the forest that was mean
Poetry by Mark Reynolds
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Written on 2006-01-20 at 17:10
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