A Letter From The Trees

There is a lot of poetry
In me
That dies everyday
With your memory
With the scent of your deception
But that's alright
Everyone deceives
Them lie underneath
Them lie above
Them lie
But that's alright
Everyone lies.

Should I write in italics,
Maybe in bold,
Maybe I catch your attention,
Maybe I don't,
Are you funny? Are you sad?
Are you a contradiction?
Or just a little grey?
Lost in our affliction,
Like a drowning dog, astray.

Have you realised?
I am still in italics,
Do you see the Vatican?
Do you see Rome?
Do you hear the pope?
But, do you see them?
The paedophilic scope?

Maybe the robes I wear,
Are too young to be,
They don't hide the black from
White,
They don't know
The wrong
From
Right.

But that's alright,
I use roman,
From bright,
Maybe,
That light,
Blinds your sight.