//------------------------------//
// Treehouse 
// Story: Pony Verse: A Collaborative Collection of Pony Poetry 
// by darf 
//------------------------------//

			                                                         Treehouse

They gifted me a living house, with hedgerows
Out the windows and a pile of thoughts inside

All night, I hear it breathing life
It creaks, shivering out the breezes

Bleeding darkness out into the hollowed
Out interiors as the living sap once would

It is uncertain what to do with me
It has taken all I own as its

But I am still held back. Not unwanted
But unwelcome yet. No place found

I try. I have lived inside a house
Where dead stones pave the floor

And draw your heat. Here, grass forms
The streets and is not thought as weeds

But as a microcosm living as its own small world
Frail against the greatness, yes

But holding so much more inside.