I'm so lucky.
I can sit here on this cold, hard park bench
Surrounded by the breeze and my flaming red hair
Watching the clouds struggle to keep the sun behind them
And know that I'm okay.
I've had my heart shattered
Mind tattered
Body battered
In the past year
And I'm still sitting.
I'm still here.
The trees are bent over
Frozen in motion
Weeping with all that they've seen over the years.
And it's hard to say
That it's easy to smile
Because I
Am not
A tree.
A contest entry
- Reliving the Past by Dead Lover.
700 points, ended November 30, 2008, 27 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
Beautiful. I love how your used trees as a contrasting figure to your personality.
Adding your comment:
