I remember the first time I felt lost, Got dressed up, went out, and I saw it there, Standing still, alongside the running waters, Leaned up to it, Wished I was one of the leaves, To feel the breeze of summer, Feel the sunlight on my skin, Then the fall could come in, I would fall there like a wilted leaf, No one will care about me, Like no one ever cared, But the difference is that I would feel nothing, My heart would not ache like a stuck, rusted gear in an old machine, And my stomach would not carry crazy sick butterflies, My mind would not feel like it’s my only enemy, But I am no leaf, I am just a lost creature on the edge of this world, Who comes every day to search for his lost soul around an old tree, Waiting to hear the answers he’d never got, Or to find the things he threw away along the road, Wishing he had roots like that one tree, That might have helped him stand still, Because freedom is not to move around, But to breathe, to be where you should be, Like an old tree, beside a running river!
