|Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission||Contact | Participate|
|Poetry Personals Prose Screenplay Essay Press Article Communities Contest Special Literary Technique|
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
2017-11-30 | |
I am a tree! Roots come out of my body and pin me down,
Birds nest in my hair and sing about the things they see.
Without water and sunlight, my leafs turned brown,
So I look up at the sky and dream of the day I can walk free.
At my feet there is a buried treasure,
A beating heart waiting to be discovered,
With so much love to give, it cannot be measured
Sadly, my map is burned and the aches scatered.
My arm are branches and they both have swings,
Two children come and ride them, they laugh and play,
And I love to rock them, to give them wings,
Cause they are splinters from my body I will lose someday.
I'm slowly dieing, like all of us trees die and this is my last request
I hope I will make it in my quest for love and freedom,
Until my last leaf has fallen, until my last bird has left her nest,
And I have found a peaceful meadow to lay my head and rest.
|Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests.|