Live and Breathe

pull. dig the roots out of the grave, another thing they could not save. 
tug. the branch off the wall, a tree that used to stand so tall.
run. from the wasps that used to live in a nest cut down, they will never forgive.
hide. flower wilting in a concrete room, ready to die in an industrial tomb.

false. lonely fern in a plastic cage, filled with others that do not age.
bloom. hope inside a box of doubt, lonely sapling that will never sprout.
begin. animals no longer scared, free from being ensnared.
wild. hunters now hunted, confronters now confronted.

climb. ladders and stairs, caught up in pointless social affairs.
plant. seeds stuck in unbreakable seals, sun outside sees things to “heal”.
sky. stars far from each other, watching friends slowly die, one after another.
plastic. animals choking, slowly dying from false smoking.

concrete. cannot destroy the lonely vine that people pick to make knock-off wine.
air. fog in the sky, birds falling thinking that death is calling.
farm. the life right out of us, overworked but wouldn’t want to make a fuss.
rain. run from the cold, will we ever take off our blindfold?
breathe. the air that we repel.