Dead Tree

I was sitting under the Sigillaria Tree.
For I have been set free,
So I scream with glee!
While the stitching made me bleed.
I am forced to concede.

Forced my arms to my chest,
And I hold me close with no rest,
For I am trapped in this stitched arm unrest,
I am the court jester.
Such words hear me prester!

I have only one question so please foresee,
What will happen to me?
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

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