The man standing tall is a tree.
His thoughts,
Suicide,
Depression.

The rain pours down,
And his tears tear his heart.
The sun is coming out,
Which will mend it,
Like it never fell apart.

He’s an uncertain man.
Who leans to the left,
With his head slumped down.
On his face,
Not a smile,
Just a frown.

Everything is lost,
Like a tornado took it away.
The branches and limbs of this man,
They just break and sway.

His family is another tree,
A distant shadow,
A missed memory,
A patch of fog.
They’re all gone now,
It’s time to,
Move on.

His past,
Is what he fears.
Life is just a gust of wind,
Filled with smiles and dreaded tears.

It’s getting dark out,
He wants to go inside.
He’s staked there,
He can’t move and hide.

This man’s outline starts to disappear.
He’s fragile like a wilting leaf,
An eraser can’t erase his mistakes,
And now what is left,
Just a smear.

Shadows are always there,
Always in the day,
Whether you’re black or you’re white.
His just doesn’t see it that way,
His shadow shows at night.