
The wind never let me be still
I swayed
-
The kids stepped on me
I drooped
-
The squirrels scurried across me
I dangled
-
Strands of my flesh splintering off
With each interaction
-
I fall
-
On a date unknown
Undocumented
-
My roots could tell the tale of me
Of my agony
My confusion
My cells had sent messages of fury to them
-
But I had not been met with a response
My roots had weathered their storm
And expected me
A branch
to do the same
-
Not absorbing that though I was of them
I was not them
I was not roped into the Earth
-
I was just a thing protruding out of its' trunk
More susceptible to wear and tear
-
My roots thought I could live
in a way they couldn't
That I would know ease
in a way they didn't
-
And maybe I could have
Maybe I could have been immovable and fruitful
A staple in my community
-
Perhaps
-
With more time
More knowledge
More nurturing
-
-
But on the ground
I have been demoted
From a branch to a mere stick
-
My roots bellow
-
I am thrown thousands of miles away
Burned for amusement
Scraped along metal
Urinated on
-
My roots wail
-
I am bewildered
Despondency is my identity
-
My roots transmit tailormade pulsations
-
I remember


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