Poetry in Waves

Deep in the Woods

Lost
That's what I am. Lost.
The trees grow and grow
Until they are skyscrapers
This is unreal. Trees don't grow that fast.
I'm panicking. This isn't logical.
But it's what I see
But it's NOT REAL
Being lost is real
The trees that surround me for miles are real
These trees, although separate from each other
Are all so in common. All so alike
And then there's me.
The lost person in an unreal number of trees
Is it possible to get out? Or survive?
Who knows
All I know is pavement, not dirt
And what good does pavement and houses do me now
Nothing.
So I'm stuck in these woods
Where trees are in multitudes
And I breathe.
In. Out. In. Out.
Keep to a pattern,
Keep to a time.
And hopefully
Pavement will get me out
Out of the woods.