Weeping Willow
by
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Scars Of Life, Scars verbally heard but not seen can be thrown into debris, cast down with no plea, whatever became of me? Hidden deep inside, striving to be alive bitter is the strife that first became life. Sadness I do not like, I wish I could be of some life. Feeling trapped from with in, these scars abased abrasions have opened for all to see. Blessed maybe at this time of death, to those who entwine in pain. When one has found scars____Painful to be alive____Whatever happened to me___? Shall I ever be alive?
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About the Book
Often, we have wondered in time when things remained the same
how life never changed, until the venom of life took a turn
for those that we had endured.
The weeping willow tree comes to mind in those times.
As the trunk of the tree is strong as can be and the branch
can hang heavy with venom, sagging till the end.
However, the weeping willow tree has sparked my poetry
for good and for bad. The branches of the weeping willow
can also be there for you to protect and cover you.
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have
A jamboree under the weeping willow tree?
As you read this very explicit piece of poetry, know that the
Weeping Willow Tree is heaven's jamboree.
About the Author
As you read this very explicit piece of poetry, know that the Weeping Willow Tree is heavens jamboree. Tucked away in us all, are scars hidden and un healed. As I stay connected to my inner being, expressions of words overload my thoughts. Poetry arises as I have touched the surface of the inner being, jolted by and expressive word or phrase from my past, present or future. Just as a picture of an expressive thought from a friend or an aquantance. A mild conversation is expressive indeed. Poetical words that are hidden deep within the heart and soul, reach the land of hindges and doors, open to the inner core.