DesdemonaVan-Tent

Walking through a metallic forest bushes of barb wire, trees of stainless steel Three copper crows sitting in a tree singing with their hollow voices "pip" "pip" "pip" like my alarm clock The sterling silver ground feels ice cold against my feet but my eyes are drawn to a bundle of mushrooms all identical, must be the same model They seem brand new to this forest The gold daisies branch out in solitary twenty-four carat and so fragile I could easily tilt them to the ground crooked for life, compelled to restraint but no They seem so lonely drowning in the lack of light older trees are just to big and won’t let t