The Tree
13 April, 2005
Author: Dani
You stand proud,
You stand tall.
You look happy,
Yet you're not at all.
Your skin is cracked,
Your outside is peeling.
I can not imagine
What you are feeling.
You shake in the wind,
And wither in the sun.
Your life hag ended,
before it had begun.
Abused,
Destroyed
and used.
You stand alone,
You stand tall.
You look sad,
Not happy at all.
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Comments on this poem/writing:
| Brittany (207.200.116.136) -- Saturday, October 22 2005, 01:56 am I have felt very similar to that at one point and time in my life and i hope to never feel that way agian....i really enjoyed that poem too... you are really good at what you do and that is very awsome it is poetry |
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