The Cove

I see me now and I shake.
I see me now and I awake.

The sun has touched me
and I am a broken tree.

The color is opaque trust
I’m going to do what must.

My roots run deep down,
under a tree’s I am found.

I put off the things I’ve often
used to before I find a coffin.

I’m so afraid of light shown
I think I need a gentle home.

I don’t deserve it my stance
is one I own my ignorance.

I go down to the cove cut in
stone the lake I call friend.

I there can be a fluent firm
speaking man I hope learn.

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