Forests

Each one different
Some with a lot of trees
Some many
The air is also different
Contains poison or just breathtaking oxygen
Oxygen that turns into poison eventually
Trees will die
Until nothing is left

I walk
On vulnerable dirt
Possibilities to fall in shifting sands
Places where no birds are allowed
Otherwise a fountain of pain
The hidden trees
Still exists but unreachable
A forest that rise but shrinks at once

I hope to see the young trees
Not the arachnoid ones
Because they're more brighter
More ways to go
And has faith in the future
Focus on the young ones
Not the old
That mathers