A Handful of Words: An Anthology of Original Poetry

Sorrowful Tritina

Eyes closed, I rest in the tree

Dripping down my face, it rains

Washing away my sadness and sorrow

I reminisce about my own sorrow

While the leaves of the tree

Pull me in close, but it is no shelter from the consistent rain

I’m soaked with the chilling rain

But gone is my sorrow

That I once was plagued with, sitting in an oak tree

The painful sorrow is not mine anymore; it was washed completely away, in the arms of a tree.