Dark and lonely are the trees,
Ugly brambles amongst the weeds.
Tiring whispers of the past,
Can’t see the forest for the trees.
Mists sheltering quiet songs,
A white that creeps along the ground,
To lay down blindfolds on eyes around.
Long since have left the birds of song,
The callings of the feathered folk
Went silent, dead, and then we broke.
Flowers that were bright in bloom,
Slowly faded to the gloom,
Bending heads that dropped to bed,
Words unspoken left unsaid.
Dreamy days of sunny skies
Casting dappled shadows upon old paths
Now forgotten to the last.
And now in darkened sighs,
Bitter farewells of bygones goodbye,
We fall back upon the blackened earth,
Staring up from where we stay,
Shaking our heads and then we say,
Still can’t see the forest for the trees.