She thinks she's the queen of all the bee's,
like a hawk in a nest, of the tallest tree.
Like a squirrel jumping trees, who has no cares,
assuming she is smarter, than the average bear.
Lost in the forest, like a deer on the run, always trying,
to stay ahead of the hunters gun, never looking like she's having fun.
She's a very lonely girl, searching the world, for a big white pearl,
never realizing in her mind, that what she wants, she will never find.
She keeps passing the signs, going to fast,
to read between the lines.
Always thinking she's gaining time,
never realizing, she's running on empty, in her mind.
Tom Maxwell copyright 11/27/2005 A.D.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem