you're in a crowd looking down you lift your head you're left alone to wonder where has everyone gone
tired of waiting for them to return you go home you don't answer the phone not because someone called but because no one did you look out the window into the evergreen all you see is trees some look like they never were green some manage to hold onto most of their leaves some act like they don't know they're trees some of them are moved by the wind some of them refuse to bend some of them have lost their limbs some of them remember a time when some lean to the side some wave to people passing by sometimes in the quiet of night one might hear one cry why do willows weep it's so many different kind lining the street bearing a different kind of leaf

