All of them are lost
in the forest
they thought they knew
which is real new.
Some are singing,
some are dancing,
some are reciting
their poems, their odes
somewhere in the woods.
Some deceives,
some receives,
some left
turning to left,
which is a perhaps.
an unknown.
Some are thoughtful,
some had learned,
some still masters
what their crafts are
while some creates,
while some are on their nests.
some are searching
for their haven
for something
to rest their tired soul.
Some are dying
while looking
back to their deeds
which seeds
have they planted
to left them in mourning
somewhere in morning.
Some are just starting
while some are ending
their journey.
I used to say,
"Let's meet in the middle-
in the middle of perhaps"
which I thought would work,
little did we know
what's in the middle
is still a perhaps
and at the end of the journey,
we'll count our seasons
somewhere in the forest
that we've had.
Stormy?
We would still pickthe sunrise.
