The lonely acorn aims,
hearing the safe leaves bristle and jeer in a cat call.
While its stem shoots and stands tall
those dead leaves see black and spinning rims.
Twigs hit a rough end
taking on streams
that drown their dreams.
some of us can stay sane and walk among others with demons from the for shadows…
the rest cannot bear the memory of the demon at their back
t’is what seperates the strong from the weak,
t’is why some fear death n the rest empathize with mortality.