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As I Sit Under a Tree
As I sit under a tree,
I think about the times I’ve cried
Over how much you betrayed me,
And the days when my heart felt withered and dried
Like nobody could ever bring it back to life.
I really tried.
I tried to make you happy,
But you would never smile,
You would only grimace coldly.
As the wind whispers in my ear,
I remember how you never listened
You rarely ever seemed to hear,
And those days when you smiled and your eyes glistened
Were pushed away by puffy pink eyes wet from tears.
You isolate yourself; you say you want your life to end,
And nobody could restore the way
You were like before.
Dear girl, I remember your past, and the future is what I fear.
As the leaves rustled with uncertainty—or was it shame?
I wondered how this even started and why you still can’t quit,
And I wish I knew why you do it, and who was to blame.
Or if one day you just came to school with your wrists slit
Just because it was “cool”.
Was it because of a real problem, or had it become a habit?
Had planning your death become nothing more than a pastime?
Why were you so convinced that nobody would miss you?
Or, maybe this is all an act to you and we’re all fooled by your little game.
As I sit under a tree
I think about when you were at the hospital
And I would pray that it would help you go back to how you used to be
Everybody, your parents, your friends—we were all hopeful
But you came back and you acted as if everything was a joke
As you still longed for death like he was simply a friend holding a silver sickle
And that’s when I gave up
Because you didn’t care about us when we cared about you
I hope that one day you’ll understand and you’ll forgive me.
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