The Broken Twig
Why this day you break
The only productive twig
The giver of life to many
A shelter to the birds
Of different kinds and color
Not even a tear you wipe
Your eyes dry like charcoal
In love you were with it
All gone never to be
Not even a seed you protected
To continue the twig life
Why think its cursed?
Yet the best it produces
Even in dry or wet seasons
The twig will grow stronger
In another world.
A new person will till
Till fully grown to produce
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