The forest

 

It will be a long path!

Spare the critics and complaints

To when you reached back home;

In peace

One forgets about botherments.

I rushed, 

But home was far

And my feet hurt me. 

Running in the same forest

All pass and debate, 

Pushing and pulling, 

Few walk together 

And even fewer smile to strangers. 

One told me 

The road was a warzone

And I ain't good enough, 

That I must choose to act

As a slave or an owner

And do so much...

The flowers are unseen

And the ones who stop by, 

Suspecting for a moment

There must be something beautiful

Unleashing the mythical smell, 

Are doomed as fools. 

Should always focus

On the path! 

The forest grew smaller

And one must only see 

The movement of another, 

Take notes, 

And walk the talk. 

All strive for perfection, 

While everyone forgot

The trees are mistakes

And so is the journey, 

Exploring is the kidnapper 

Who turned the angels

Into sleepwalkers.

The judges are eager to judge

Unknowing it's art what they see, 

The absolute feasts on mistakes, 

The forest has many wrong trees. 

There was one

Who was sitting

By the side of the road

In the middle of nowhere, 

Smoking with the eyes at the sky. 

The rumor took over all

How ungrounded that one might be. 

I stopped and asked:

Why don't you hurry? 

" This is a dream! "

He answered me, 

" And I am free."