These days,

pass by so quickly,

and life feels so short.

These days I don’t feel like myself.

These days,

many things remind me,

of the past,

and the people.

These days I feel alone.

These days,

the only place I feel at peace,

is in a tree high up above the ground,

it’s limbs like giant arms cradling me,

and it’s green leaves emanating the air I breathe.

These days I can never,

seem to find the words for the way I feel.

These days I feel my fire dying.

These days,

will pass.