The Poet Tree - The Blue Van

Peel the paper from the bones

A seed waits beneath the soil

The ink is pushing further up your spine

From your head grows a tree and the roots rip the words and the bitter rain

leaves a mark of everlasting change deep in the pulp of your heart

Weight bends the birches low

Fades more with every blow

A whisper spreads the letters randomly

From your head grows a tree and the roots rip the words and the bitter rain

leaves a mark of everlasting change deep in the pulp of your heart

Should someone carve a heart

Let the blood hit the ground

It adds a bit of truth, turns the chestnut into the sweetest fruit

Don’t let the raven nest

Don’t let it fly

Bye bye