When a tree falls on the forest floor,

We all know how that one ends we’ve heard it many times before.

I for one belive that it does indeed make a sound.

Though it may get back up before it can be found.

Who are we really when we are alone?

Well I can tell you with certainjy that we aren’t suddenly turned to stone.

When the last audience member leaves their seat.

Only then can you truly let the mask fall to your feet.

You can truly be anything!

A writer, a scholar, an artist, having no shame in merely expressing.

Or you can be nothing!

The soft breeze in the trees hidden but still there, you may indulge with no shame in simply being there.

You can say, think, do and simply be!

For those few moments of solitare is when you’re truly free.

For those few moments you are gold.

A million tiny secrets that never may be told.

But even gold craves to be seen.

And the eyes of loneliness are annoyingly keen.

Though it is perfectly okay to be lonely don’t let it turn you into someone untrue and phoney.

Connections are one of life’s many gifts,

And when you find the truest ones the mask no longer feels so stiff.