The Bush

The Bush

A Poem by Shroud

How do we survive in this cruel, unfair world? Is it by chance, do we have some natural ability, or are we watched over by a higher power? We will all die but few have answers to what happens after

In autumn, the life drains from nature
Everything begins to wilt and die
And some people will plant a bush
And that bush can withstand the cold breeze

Eventually the leaves will fall from all the trees
And the wind will blow them around
Until one day when the gust gets stronger
And blows the leaves toward the bush

The bush is still small and young
So the leave cover it and strangle it
The bush slowly begins to die
And you could have moved the leaves away

The bush is now dead and you can’t fix it
You can get another bush, but the old one is still dead
And you could have saved that little bush
But you were lazy, and didn’t care

And now the bush is gone

© 2018 Shroud

Author's Note

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1 Review
Added on March 6, 2018
Last Updated on March 6, 2018
Tags: death, nature, human error



Wake Forest, NC

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