Sycamore trees.- Back where the names of ivy leuges iched like ivy leaves, buzzed like empty tries inside of me. I could go where the crowd was headed. From grammar school to middle the high, I was trapped in a net and promised extinction. My instoct was always to follow the crowd and stay low, even if were all going no where. At least I wouldn't be alone. Those four years of sleeping because the classrooms had somewhere dry to sit and heat sank my chances like missing papers in a storm.