Marcy

From the top of a mountain,
A green forest is seen below,
And in another direction,
A sea of flowers grows,
I stand on a rocky outcrop,
Arms held high aloud I scream,
With the only sound that I hear,
Is the tears that fall in streams.
 
 
Emotions overtake me,
And the pain just seems to flow,
Momentarily blinded by my tears,
A blindness I well know,
The lush landscape stirs my memories,
But you’d think the opposite would apply,
Empty arms hold empty dreams,
And an emotion he can’t deny.
 
 
In the distance a river flows,
Like my screams it runs away,
And every ounce of energy,
Still leaves more to say,
Without effort the forest flourishes,
It has it’s ebb and flow,
And with the changing of the seasons,
It dies and then it grows.
 
 
No one hears my anguished cries,
Though I’m here with that intent,
Unwilling to confide with others,
I must go to this extent,
More comfortable out in nature,
Though an echo proves my pain,
And out away from people,
There’s no justification for me to gain.
 
 
The trees below move in waves,
A breeze makes them dance,
Though atop this mountain the air is still,
Will that wind bring some sort of chance,
The wind becomes a loving touch,
A thing I sorely miss,
As the flowers in that field below,
Become a many colored kiss.
 
 
Over time the tears are slowed,
And my screams are slowly muffled,
My dreams are still held within,
Though by the breeze it seems they’re shuffled,
Even in this place alone,
The forest hears my every word,
And with the echoes that come back to me,
Her heart has finally heard.

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