A Handful of Words: An Anthology of Original Poetry

The Willow Tree

I am a Willow Tree

Loose, flowy, wild but not free.

These roots hold and prevent me

From being exactly who I wish to be.

I am weepy, melancholy and full of sorrow.

Perhaps it will be better, on the morrow.

This I know.

I am quiet and timid,

Reserved and muted,

Seemingly dull and plain, but wait ‘til I’ve budded.

The Willow Tree, I’ve come to see,

Is me.