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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2203143
Rated: E · Poetry · Spiritual · #2203143
Static lives
It's funny to me,
that you're now, a tree.
I chuckle, continually.
Stand there tree.
Feed us air, just stare.
Oh weep, yes willow, weep.
So seep and reap cherry, reap.
Harvesting, previously dispersed...
Impediment of life, now cursed.
Your agony's consumed,
a wicked life's entombed...
We all admire your new design,
mayhem shackled, lengthy time...
Suffer, grow high and flourish.
Fluster, we'll all still nourish.
Much too late for any such woe,
just embrace your desolate sorrow.
Stuck, can't implode,
muck, prior life, corrode...
Struck, ow,
lucky me, wow...
A reward from way up high...
So angered are you, reaching for sky.
I, laughing beneath your shade...
Your previous, horrendous charade,
will for now, just beautifully cascade.
Dangling, bright, juicy fruit...
No longer such an enraging brute.
So fortunate, me...
You're quite bitter, I see...
Very delicious and tasty.
Alas, you're not so hasty.
Reach high and stand free...
Become wise, young apple tree.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2203143