Sometimes trees can look healthy on the outside, but actually be dying inside. These trees fall unexpectedly during a storm.

Our Best Song

Life is like a song.
There’s the dragging beginning, the middle, the repeating bridges, and the inevitable end.
And to every song there’s a purpose to it.
And to every life there’s a reason for it.

The dragging beginning.

One learns how to walk
How to talk
How to run
How to live.

One discovers they hate spaghetti but love lasagna
Discovers they love winter but hate summer
Discovers they hate cats but love dogs
Discovers they love the color yellow but hate the color burgundy.

This is where one learns right and wrong,
Learns who they are,
Learns who they’re destined to become.
Learns the dramatic melody of their song leading to the opening verses.

The middle.

This is where it makes the whole thing worthwhile.
Where one can party
Where one can travel to Paris
Where one can be free.

One can become a doctor
Become a cop
Become a teacher
Become whatever they aspire to be.

One truly find themselves
Finds joy and sorrow
Finds all the world has to offer.
Finds the beat of the music and the memorable lyrics.

The repeating bridges.

Over and over again this happens,
To change from one phase to another.
It’s almost like light shining in an abandoned church,
Strange but yet peaceful.

Here a realization hit’s them,
And they comprehend it’s time to change.
It’s like becoming a different person.
Then the tune of the song changes into something grander.

Whether the change be a result of
Someone’s death or
Of a newborn baby.
It provides a breath of fresh air to aging lungs.

The inevitable end.

Not many words can be spoken or written.
Words aren’t enough
Words don’t supply comfort
Words only bring out a certain fear or anxiety.

But when it comes down to it,
One can only hope that
One other person can look at their song and have that
One person say that it was the best song ever written.

And just like that it’s over.
Like the air over the last note of a song,
Like a hurricane
Like an earthquake, one just disappears and becomes a distant memory.

Life is like a song.
There’s the dragging beginning, the middle, the repeating bridges, and the inevitable end.
And to every song there’s a purpose to it.
And to every life there’s a reason for it.

Off Doodling in Class♥