Twisting mel0dies

Flirting through the willow trees.

Those sounds don’t ever leave me be. 

They fall and they fly and they

Come at the break of dawn

Every day.

Sometimes I think that I am mad.

But wouldn’t I think that I was the only sane one?

Wouldn’t I be the doctor in this psych ward of a world?

Tell me that.

Answer me from your high horse.

Are you the melodies?

Are you the trees?