A Discarded Plant
A
discarded
plant was I
that a traveler,
a kind, gentle traveler,
picked gently up, and
planted in a rich, fertile land
to make me a tree,
a big, blossoming tree,
but no, - not for him,
yet for all the passers-by.
I’m that tree, that tree,
that he wanted me to be,
with boughs so bent and so low,
with fruits full of ripe and so raw,
caring those that come under my bough,
yet
he cannot see me,
because
he’s
Nor
More
*A 1st Place* in the following contest (judged on Nov. 29, 2020)
Nov. 23, 2020
SHAPE UP Poetry Contest
Contest Sponsor: Brian Strand
Originally, I published this piece in 2016 for About Page on My WordsPress account.
Copyright © Newton Ranaweera | Year Posted 2020
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