Updated: Jun 2
I see them passing by I see them everyday The life in each one of them making me sick to the core How I once used to be filled with the same unique colours doesn’t matter any more than Rodrigo’s overrated album And I’ve seen everything - the careless joggers rushing past; the illicit affairs behind a not-so-secret bridge. But what’s the use of gaining leverage if all you’re known for is a dead part of a lively tree? When the only signs of life you show is when the wind takes pity, it doesn’t do so well for your self-esteem. And just like the gardener’s husband, I leaf in agony, away into a claustrophobic atmosphere with nothing but black walls. Seriously, it’s everywhere. Black, black, black, ooh maroon! Nope, that’s black. I bid farewell to those who took interest in my once admirable anatomy. Goodbye.