Trees
The swaying bare branches
Flutter in the blustery wind
The coldness of the day
Only matched by the gloominess of my heart
The view of red bricks
On this summery wintry day
And the chimney that stands redundant
Only reminds me of myself
And as the wind plays with the bare skeletons of the trees
Toying with the branches using invisible hands
I think of what could have been
And what will never be
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