What’s a Forest to a Bear

By Devin Taylor


Im above the undergrove 

But I’m stuck beneath the shrubs 

I’m a fully grown bear

But yet I’m no better than my cubs

I’m an incandescent Writing machine 

yet I’m no better than the rest

I want the skills

of dollar bills

A power of which 

no one can contest 


This forest 

acts like a golden sleeve 

That hides the power within my leaves

That steals my ability to perceive 

the world around me, like a thief .

My infertile mind unable to conceive 

due to Allium Cepa,the Onion,

Hidden in my trees


Their words are sweet like that of a honey suckle 

Mossy green envy 

Leaves my knees no choice but to buckle 

And down these hills I’m destined to tumble

My once powerful words now fated to a mumble 


But there’s no drops 

In my stomach when I hop

Hop from hill tops.

I’ll hop above the yellow tinted grass,

and the treetops made of brass,

Past the blue birds and their sas

zooming through the course like a class that’s hard to pass.


And I hope In the future that I won’t fall

I might get a few scratches 

But hey that’s all

And for the first time in a while the sun bear looks quite tall 

from now on I’ll love being for who I am

I won’t scrap my words, procrastinate ,

or stall.


Stall till a better me shows up 

A me that doesn’t want to throw up 

when she performs

A me that never goes past 

The rivers or the lakes

A me that conforms to society’s standards.

A me that never steps out of her hibernation zone 

cause that’s all she knows.


But this me 

The explorer, she refuses to be confined

to these comparisons made by her ridiculing mind

And in time she’ll be the vine

That grows above the undergrove.