He left this morning to a place that is ignored
He wanted to leave because he was sad and bored.
He took a book, a pen, but no water nor bread
Away from his family and friends to a lifeless village instead.
From all the city worries, he flees
To sit under orange trees.
The sunshine dries his tears
and the distance calms his fears.
He likes the road,
But not when it leads home.
Only back there, mama is making diner
He stays below the trees that give him shelter,
food and satisfaction.
Still unwilling to move,
High grass grows around his legs.
Body and bark become one
Drawing rotting curves
He disappears into the trunk.