My life is like a tree
And you're an old branch,
Rarely growing fruit - and crappy fruit, at that.
I need to be pruned.
I need to cut you off, cut you out of my life.
But it hurts so badly...
Or maybe, you're like a weed---
Choking out all the other potential life around you.
Or maybe you're now just years worth of random crap that's been thrown into my river.
Too much of you contaminating everything that exists in my soul.
You're so hard to clean up after.
Whatever form you now take---
Deep rooted, stubborn, strong tree,
A crafty weed or sneaky vine,
Oil, waste, and toxins,
Vision-blocking smog---
You are here somewhere---
Somewhere deep and nigh untouchable---
Deep in the bowers of the garden of my heart
And some how, some way, some day
I will cut you out---
Clean you out---
Find you out---
Throw you out---
And maybe I'll be able to find beauty and happiness and love once more.
Author notes
3/16/09
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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I love this poem. I know exactly what you feel. The things men do to us and they indeed are stubborn! You stay strong and i know you, i know that you'll make it even if you get the wrong weed killer at least he's gone for a while....


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this rocks...seriously...what a wrong turn relationships take and it is so hard to scrub the effects away...great great piece!!




