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Rated: E · Poetry · Adult · #1934169
A twisted poem about being part of the scenery in life and in death.

-Part of The Scenery-
by
Keaton Foster

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Red
Green
Blue
True
The color of my eyes
The color of my blood
The color of these trees
Silent witnesses they seem
Standing there
Without a single care
Lacking all judgment
Just part of the scenery
Just like me
Unnoticeable
Until they are gone
An afterthought
A seemingly avoidable
What not
A home for some
A shade for others
A giver of life for everything alive
A byproduct that we assume is for us
Assumption is life’s bitch
Hanging here
Oh’ God
This branch will not break
It will not bend
I must live and now die
With my choice
I took the risk
I was sure that I might fail
Never confident
That I might actually succeed
Soon, like these trees
I will be part of the scenery
Soon I will be dead
Hung to the end
The knot was crafted by me
The rope was strung by me
Tied ever so tight
By these steady hands
But I can assure you
That it was not I
Who forced me to this place
Others much crueler than me
Are without question, responsible
The weight of who I have become
Was not enough to snap my neck
I have always been meant to suffer
I have always been meant to feel it all
But at least as I do
I have this amazing view
This colorful panoramic
Of undeniable truth…



Part of The Scenery
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013

© Copyright 2013 Keaton Foster: Know My Hell! (keatonfoster at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1934169-Part-of-The-Scenery