Poem Hunter
The White Oak Tree
JB (09-30-1980 / springfield illinois)

The White Oak Tree

Let it go
Let it flow
Watch the grass grow
Insted of falling back
Into the old burlap sack
What should i do
When the only one around is in my shoe
And the only tim she is around
She is singin the blues
And lookin for a clue
To find a way back
To what she always knew
Which leaves me in an empty room
Without a flower to bloom
Sweeps me into a pan
With some dirty used broom
Give me a way
Somehow i say
To make it all go away
So it will just be me
Under a White Oak Tree

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