I can’t see over that fence
Where you tell me
The trees of good fortune
Sway to the teasing breezes of spring 
They are like mothers
Bearing the fruit of hard labor
Days spent in crowded kitchens
Hands and arms heavy with compassion 
I paint a picture of the future
When the branches will break off
Leap off
One by one
Suicide
They have fallen in love with
The dirt of the earth
Leaves will become ashes
For Death to feast upon
Dismantled trees 

You say it’s ridiculous 
And take my imagination away

I grow like you said the trees did
Now I can see over the fence
You didn’t have time to cover my eye
I see the truth
The trees of good fortune are buried
Their fruit rots
The trees have fallen in love with
The dirt of the earth
You only saw their ghosts 
And created another reality
I choose the first reality 
All of us, one day,
Will fall in love with
The dirt of the earth 
And bury ourselves
In grim consummation