Is This All I Get

The woods are scary dark and deep and offer no respite. God knows that this is all we'll get. Of all the things you heard them say the dead are under ground. Writing what I hear, I feel the moss a beard instead of green is slightly mottled brown. Love I've never made, I know I never will. I sadly bade goodbye. The bushes have no scented leaves none there to cover what I've found. You have entered lost and tired and like me can't be found. If there is a God, like you and me, he needs a second chance I think.