ForestryIf my f e a t h e r s could speak volumes ..can I bring you out to accept me?If miracles waited all their lives ..would you want to see through to the end?Walkingaway fromthe things I adore .. if truth was a sign,can I escape the tragedy I endure?Pattern is not in my veins ..Fathering my beliefs ..gathering moss for my frustration ..floating irrationally without fruition.What hole can give