Author's Note: This poem came to me today and I felt like writing it down. So here it is, and there you are, and that is that.
Not Going Anywhere
And here I
am,
Stuck
For the last time
Between the tree and the
spear,
Not going anywhere.
Because in the old
days,
Gwindor,
He was a tree,
Alive, growing, spreading,
And
he loved me.
And in the new days,
Túrin,
He was a spear,
Swift and true and
deadly,
And he loved me.
And there I
was,
Stuck
Between tree and spear,
As now, for eternity,
Not
going anywhere.
