There are trees beneath the grinding asphalt <br />You see them as you stroll, clammy hands in your pockets <br />Those windows in to the other dimension <br />The world beneath all roads and sidewalks <br /> <br />There are large looming black trees <br />Standing out against the whitest blue sky <br />Fiery orange leaves like an exotic party dress <br />Adorn those gothic castles, those black trees <br /> <br />You look into that seemingly perfect world, through a <br />Gleaming rain-washed window <br />Wanting to bend over, to reach out and grab a leaf <br />Knowing it will taste of autumn <br /> <br />Hands sweep down and you dip your fingertips in <br />Finding not that pristine world you crave, but <br />Only cold stagnant rain water <br />Burning your fingertips with harsh reality <br /> <br />You rise, turn. disappointed, continue walking <br />Wiping the last remnants of Utopia <br />Off of your wrinkled digits <br />Onto chilled frayed blue jeans <br /> <br />And the next time it rains. <br />You will look for the trees beneath the street<br /><br />gina prettybrowneyes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/there-are/
