Holly Tree

Hillside's not so pretty today

I'll watch glass dry all day

Streaks stain

Croon crooked songs all off-key

But that's alright

Fading bouquets

It's what it is

It's all just poetry

My face, his words

I change, we age

But I can't help feeling nothing

At all

No matter how, regardless what

But I can't help feeling that grass will

Be green again

The leaves will fall

I'll close my eyes

But I can't help feeling that grass will

Be green again

No matter how, regardless what

But I can't help feeling that grass will

Be green again

I do wilt

Under those daydream skies

Sunken eyes

My canvas

Naked and weeping for

A hand to hold

But this void

Will have to do

It's all just poetry

My face, his words

I change, we age

But I can't help feeling nothing

At all

I'll make a drink, I'll go adrift

But I can't help feeling this darkness

I'll paint it white

My face, his words

Loose change I've made

Bet it won't get me to Mt. Holly

Uprooted

Beckoned by these

Achromic hillsides

They gift me nothing

No matter how, regardless what

But I can't help feeling that grass will

Be green again