writing The Weeping Tree

[MelancholicMemory 2,025]

I haven't written in awhile. I finally wrote this. It's kind of sad, but it's unlike a lot of my previous poems of a similar tone.

 

 

"The Weeping Tree"

 

I crawl beneath The Weeping Tree

When life is dark and Blue,

I curl my broken, bending knees,

Knowing not what I can do.

 

My eyes fixed in the distance,

As this dead tree hangs above.

I think of my blank future,

And the Failure that is Love.

 

I ponder all my tired thoughts

That man can never know,

Still under this old, ancient tree,

'Neath this proud, old weary willow.

 

My mind is blank and empty;

Not a single tear I shed,

But inside I'm overcome deep down

With an overwhelming dread.

 

Can I live my life like this?

I wonder, can it be?

I look up at the broken boughs

Of the sad, old Weeping Tree.

 

A thought inside consumes me,

And I know just what to do,

But I stood beneath the Weeping Tree,

For a minute, maybe two.

 

My heart is full of Kindness;

This world is pain and death,

So I sit beneath The Weeping Tree

And breathe a slow, Last breath.