Not one man, woman or child

Dares discover the forest of iridescent smiles.

For colours waver and perceptions are perceptively perceived.

All the while heads are permeated with the memories of the trees-

Leaning, closing in, catching what is legitimately theirs.

The sweet crispiness shrouds all who pierce through the veil.

The smog infects and empties us of the smooth sorrow

That we have become so accustomed to.

The trees, with nonchalance,

Drive us towards wonderful madness.

Their iridescent words fill iridescent ears.

Iridescent thoughts move through iridescent veins,

Until we are nothing but the same iridescent smiles we forged

To begin with.