The Forest Floor.

A poem.


bare-foot on the forest floor

i feel the leaves and dirt

beneath me,

and find solace in the songs

of birds in the canopy

that make me feel less alone.


one foot in front of the other

i walk

step by step,

searching for something

i’m not sure

even exists.


and where on earth

am i meant to go

when there isn’t a map

no destination

nothing to guide me

and nowhere to hide?


who am i meant to be

when i don’t belong

and don’t fit anywhere

and everyone else seems to be

on a different frequency

to me?


what am i looking for

while wandering,


and unsure of who

i even am

or why i’m even here?


when will i know

just what it is

that makes me so



different to everyone else?


i’m alone.

but why am i here?

maybe the meaning is

that there isn’t one,

because this forest shares no secrets

with me.




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