My depression suffocated me
day after first spring and our last snow...

She painted tinsel in the dark
as demons stripped her soul...

The devil dances close to midnight,
floating upon walls where the lonely gather...

Expressions rage cross my face
while fingers tap away on counter tops...

Upon a magical notion
thy ears deceived my heart...

By Ben Pickard and Maple Tree
A small acorn, from my nature soul...

I whisper thoughts
while my coffee goes cold...

Not a day goes by
without my mind whistling...

She was born an innocent
with ivory cheeks, button nose...

If the world encased me
within a mason jar...

If you must go,
remember to sparkle...

Upon a road of uncrossed tears
fighting infections of endless words...