Crooked Tree
Crooked Tree, there’s so much of you in me.
I whisper to the wind my confession.
This heart of mine is quite GRIM and GLOOMY.
Of FEELINGS; not one goes without question.
WISTFUL; I reach beyond the canopy.
Lovelorn and lost in hell among the crowd;
wondering absently in agony
through eternity. Lost beneath it’s SHROUD.
Endless days, months, and years in precession.
Every second of time from dusk til’ dawn
I wage a war against my DEPRESSION.
Emotionally broken and WITHDRAWN.
Withstanding the winds of MELANCHOLY
requires more grain than the common holly.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
