to live - papier-mache

milktoast - roots

out in the forest the trees do fall 
and no one can hear them except the leaves 
the birds hark and call when night doesn’t fall
and beams blind their eyes, their whistles and chimes

big yellow monsters, roll through with axes
spineless and acky, don’t acknowledge their damage

and we both know you’re stifling their growth
and we both know that rings bad for us both

Cam Etherton

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