Trees of green, their leaves I clean. I don't leave behind anything. The wind, it moans. Like thunder, it groans. My heart is left wondering. Of here and there and everywhere. My mind, my soul my spirit. I cry, I scream I cannot even dream and no person stays to hear it. But who and why, with their stary eyes has wondered from their grave? They look and search, my stomach shall lurch. Yet my feelings they have saved.
