Under the WILLOW TREE she stood,
With pigtails, she head the wind cry late at nights periodically,
She stood and shivered within that corner,
Listening to the limbs knock against the walls as to warn her.
Under the WILLOW TREE she stood,
Slightly taller, yet still with no words to be spoken,
She watched as this tree withered and aged,
Never realizing they both stayed hidden in a similar cage.
Now under the WILLOW TREE she stands,
Staring down at a headstone whom once was her mother,
I stand, no longer a victim and will not be smothered.
A promise last given to be the voice for those who still suffer.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
The Willow Tree - Domestic Violence Poem
PoesiaI was asked to write a poem for a non-profit Domestic Violence organization to be read at their bi-annual Gala, this was my poem that was submitted.
