I drew a green girl yesterday.
Scraggly hair, droopy eyes,
She’s majestic and beautiful,
But why does she cry?

In spring she’s bright and happy,
In winter her colors fade.
In summer her hair is so long it can touch the ground,
In fall she blooms again.

At night the wind whistles through her hair,
Her dreary wails can shatter glass.
In the dark she whispers to me:
“I wish you, too, could be a tree”

And now as long as I may live,
What I wouldn’t give…
To be a tree, forever to see
The world through the eyes of mother nature.

But I realize that can never be.
I will never be a willow tree.
I’m forever to see the world,
Through only the eyes of me,
A painter.

— Anonymous

Reflection:
Often we try to be something other then we are. Some lifestyles are the same every minute. Change can bring different results, instead of the everyday plan, where the results are always the same. This poet, or “painter” dreams of what she draws. She wants to get out of her life for just a split second, and escape. But she know that she can never do that, because no matter how far away you are from your home, there are always things there waiting for you, nagging you to constantly think about them, stress over, and obsess over them. The life that her fantasy girl lives in is her escape. I think the green girl is like an alter ego. She’s telling herself, you are a tree, you are one with nature, and this should be your life. But her life is not that simple. No one’s is.