Sometimes said the manI am lost in a forest
being shot by the trees in a war of attrition
Perhaps I call out
I can’t quite remember,
In dreamy filled voice
Of my own volition.
And I follow the path
that I’ve followed before
Watching patterns of sun on the forest floor
Perhaps I turn round
and I beg on my knees
and they place the blindfold
as Im shot by the trees.
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