I cry,
an endless cry.
A river stream, endless stream,
like the Rio Grande.

Leaves fall,
I inhale chilly air.
My tears frost,
like rivers freezing.
Cold, icy, tears pour down,
my cold, red, face.

I feel like running.
Flying away,
fly into thick trees and brush.

Nature is marvelous,
comfort.
Where I belong.

Why were we placed in a cruel world,
not here?
Why not a magical place,
where leaves crunch?

Why not a mysterious place?
having adventures around every corner?
Why not a place without sadness,
a place to be happy.

Abby H.