Re-post (but now it's a better buttered piece of toast)

Does _'Because'_ Rust love's Rose buds Orange? Or does It open On its Door Hinge The More Spoken hope Reveals thoughts Quiet tongues click In key strokes sent Sealed in envelopes? I am the listless Tree on the hill In the distance Which is about To topple from Its awful tug And pull Existence. Bugs Infest Biting full Hunks of soul Slowly eating The trunk of My chest. I'm hibernating, hence, I'm like a prisoner for instance-- Whose energy is ending Almost finished Banished In the center Of despair Where icicle spikes My bare bark I'm still here In the heart of winter air Not knowing if I want to die Or what death is-- stuck in a blinded stare Tethered to A _never minded_ kind Of appearance. A numbing tingle Brings not a single Thought of knowing The beauty of my duty Displaying what is snowing On my branches And how it enhances Wide eyes alive around me As they hide I'm hunkered soundly Unaware Of death or that I'm even there I feel nothing More than flowers fluffing Unable to love or even care.