Through these woods, I am not alone.
The darkest sounds are mine to own.
So familiar are the sights to see, in this picture, this is my home.
Through these woods, I am not alone.
I walk through my memories of life.
sorrowfully, this ended in strife.
The man that touched was not you.
Running through this nightmare,.what can I do.
This man was not you.
Now I go through life, with burdens in my scars.
Today I lie there and wonder how you are.
Nothing ever felt that right with me.
Nothing more then setting your memories free.
©terrylin53
T