Tree

I grew up with questions,
Of how the grass grow,
I wondered of the trees,
And the branches of leaves,
The smell of flowers,
Innocent and naive,
I was, one with nature,
Discovering the world with the sun on its brightest,
Looking upon the heavens from down below,

And then I grew up with questions,
Of what the fallen left behind,
Rummaging through books,
Seeking how the circle of life continues,
How everything was intertwined,
Those who do not learn from the past,
Are bound to not last,
For history shall repeat itself,
Just like how a body decays,
Swallowed by Earth,
Slowly from its roots,
A new life, was given birth,

And I grew up with questions,
Of how the mind works,
Insecurity creeps in and lurks,
With lies I keep telling that it’s a phase,
My judgment grew cloudy, my vision hazed,
Here I am, in the darkest of nights, thinking,
Sadness is a phase, whereas depression is a connection,
A part of who I am, who I was, and who I will be,
But I have faith,
For one day, I too shall decay,
And grow from the grounds below,
A new life born from the remains of others,
A beautiful tree.

-heshethey

Someone who writes a lot of poetry. Shit or not, they're mine. I'm also a lazy ass traveler. Stick and stone may break my bones, but staircases, they get me.
Posts created 51

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