Concrete Prisons

I watched the pines sway,
each needle pressing its back
against the wind.

I am only grateful there is still
green in this town, during these
months, this year, my existence.
Some day I bet you it’ll all be
a hologram, swipe a card to see
a mistruth, the tree of life was
uprooted in strife long ago.

Someone mentioned I’d do best
in New York the other day, they
raised their fists and shook them
to try and portray the intensity in
which I live my life.

I told them there are not enough
trees there for people like me,
We need the grounding,
We need reality.

Go visit a city and you’ll see
what I mean.

– B.

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