You Belong To Me
Nature never did give wolves telepathy.
Nothing they didn’t already have.
And blue was the color of serenity.
Not the tropic of Sir Galahad.
So, when you see the tree.
When it’s bending down, down, down.
Birds are scared.
Flying all around, round, round.
Oh, can’t you see?
You belong to me.
White, wind blowing, covering all.
Changing the landscape endlessly.
Nothing changes it’s endless call.
It is total serenity.
No one comes. no one goes.
Is there anyone?
No one knows.
No one to ever have any fun.
That’s the way they say it goes.
So, can’t you see?
You belong to me.
There is no end. Just beginnings.
Over and over again.
Who is the one really winning?
Is looking back really a sin?
Desolate and deserted.
Like the heart of one once loved.
Should he have ever flirted?
Will he ever be loved?
The end is coming. Bearing down fast.
Finally, the end at last.
Now, can’t you see?
You belong to me.—————————R. W. Johnson—–(2013)