The Treehouse

A house of flowers now towers, high in a long branch. The most magical place, in the land of Carlo, who welcomed us in.

Words can't describe, the land we had the pleasure to reside.

The glint in his eye, and such wisdom within. His way of life first appearing grim, over time only built disgust, at how silly we are, all aims aimed so far. When the beauty of life, lies in but a smile. In a land and a sheep.

A cow you eat when you need. A chicken that lays you an egg. A tomato. In season. Makes a lot more reason. Kill what you need and discard all your greed. Dear Carlo won't judge, nor will he budge. If I could only be, a fraction of that man I did see.