The river sliding down the hill,
taking with it many branches and roots and
the trees seem to also follow.
On a log sliding down the water,
there was a dog.
Well that’s what it looks from far here.
But it could well be a monkey,
or even a kid, left alone.
We all have seen ourself in that situation.
sometimes we are the log.
sometimes we are the monkey,
but always thinking we are a kid.
Sometimes we just become the dog,
always blaming us for being the river.
Or crying victim in the tree’s name.
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