artiekgb

This is a rough draft something I am working on. I don't know why, but I felt like writing something with a really simple structure. I guess it is supposed to be a metaphore.

And you don't need to tell me Jim, I know that this makes me the comander in cheif of the emo legions.


There was a young boy who grew up loving trees.
He loved the hills and he feared the seas.
He wanted to wander but he was much too young.
He sought trees at home but he knew there were none.

When the boy was of age he set out to be free.
He walked through the hills and avoided the sea.
He had set out, to learn what he could,
But the world was so frightening that he froze where he stood.

When the boy was still older, he fell from a tree.
He broke his wrist and he broke his knee.
He tried to stand up, but both his feet hurt.
There was blood on his face and blood on his shirt.

The boy was still free on the ground near the tree.
The sweat in his eyes made it harder to see.
He tried to crawl, but both his arms hurt.
There was blood on his hands and blood in the dirt.

When they carried his body away to his grave, his last dying thought
was he'd never seen waves.