The Weeping Willow

October 26, 2017
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Darkness and rust.
Earthquake within the soul.
Sorrowful mistakes.
Unwanted, non-desired, misunderstood, mistake.
The feeling is mutual, my friend, the both of us have a scarred past.

The burden we put on our families.
The fear kicking in, with twitching fingers.
Like the arms of a tree grabbing, pinching, and splintering us to nothing.

An old weeping willow, swaying in the cold breeze.
My friend are you still waiting for me?
Please go, and leave me to grieve, the death of the willow,
That died in the freeze.

I understand the pinching feeling of those who want to bury your pain.
Just lock it away behind your smile, my friend.
Be like me, and it will seem.

That you have no problems at all.
Be like me,
Because I’m as dead as I could ever be.
I died with the willow,
Frozen throughout the spring.

So do yourself a favor,
Don’t be like me,
Be yourself
And it will seem
That you have no problems at all.






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