Maria L. Poet Bio

The Axe Man

Tree of life.
Tree of my life.
He dug deep and in the roots of my innocence,
He pulled and tucked.
He used all of his fingers and fiddled until he found it.
My sanity,
My happiness,
My well-being;
And then he took it for himself.
Leaving that tree seemingly alive,
Standing,
With branches and leafs.
But the roots had been messed with,
There was no life left.
So the tree mirrored the others,
Moving and swaying with the wind.
But the leafs were turning brown and falling off.
The branches would snap at any touch.
Until all that was left was the stump,
For the tree had fallen over and exhaled it’s last breath.
It was dead.
But from that lifeless stump,
All that knew that tree at its prime,
Would come,
And weep and mourn.
They would always remember.

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