Poem: Watts

The light over here is not bright anymore.

It has lost the watts that makes everything right.

The trees no longer give warmth.

They are as cold as the soul that lives inside of me.

The shade of each leaf is as different as you and me.

My heart will not stop the aching for the lost that I thought I knew.

Living with the will to survive, but not understating the hurt that has kept me alive.

All I want is for the light between us to stay bright.

Then for the trees to stand tall.

They just not seem like the plan.

The darkness is all that holds me.

The soul is all that is giving me.

At least then my soul will have a mirror.