I am a Bramble
One day they will bulldoze all the woods I grew up in,
A creek, a cricket, a salamander, a frog, all placed under the steel hammer of a race that none of us are winning.
That water does not run any longer, a detention pond, holding all the tainted memories of a place of a young boys dreams.
Dirt and brambles held such stories, red clay is the color of my blood.
I hang my head and cry at the loss of these, I tell you no one is winning.
Oh but I hold onto a seed,
I know what those waters said to me,
and all the blood that fell from the wounds of those brambles
feeds a depth that no bulldozer can reach.
Love is my Creek, and I pass that on to my Son from me.
Put a sign on all the land, sell what has always been free
You can take all this shit, pile it up for all to see
Bigger houses, faster cars, shiny things
mean nothing compared to what that Creek meant to me.
Oh, why can't you see. I cry out my eyes, I sit down on my knees, my heart pours out and I just want you to see, what it means to me.
Step away from these screens and take some time to see what I mean.