To the left, to the left.
It is regrettable
That I’ve never found the time to tell you
More so now that I don’t think I ever will.
You are gold.
But my pain became your misery
Rare were the moments I would offer up joy
Or act with love.
Sweet you, sweet you.
Fly far, and fast above the canopy
Abandon all hope
And truly soar.
All these things that I’ve done.
To know better of trampling through the brush
Soft-stepping along Nature’s trail.
Planting a few trees as I go.