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18/in your head    till death, we do art. she/her
The Terry Tree
Portland, Oregon    I Am A Spiritual Inspirational Creative Writing Poet & Author Connecting in Love, Higher Power & Sharing in Onement With All. I love meditation and ...

Poems

The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left  
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left  
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left    
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left    
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left      
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left      
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left        
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left        
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left          
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left          
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left            
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left              
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left              
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left                
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left                
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left                  
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left                  
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The tree off to the left
The family tree is dying
Everyone seems to be lying.
The tree is falling apart,
Everyone stops caring
My family grew from the same roots,
But our branches are growing so far apart.
Everyone is letting this demon into their heart.


I am planting my own tree.
This tree is going to grow in upmost care,
With no one to stare at us.
This tree
I will call my own
Will have strong roots,
Values and traditions.
While the old tree dies away with every bad omen.


This tree will grow with care.
It will grow with every emotion to spare.
I will feed my new tree with genuine love and understanding,
No more fighting.
No more judging.
Just pure patience
Our branches will grow intertwined.
The roots go deep into the ground,
Tons of people in so many places.
But the past is dying.
The traditions are dying like a malnourished plant.
I cannot believe how low this tree is coming.’
These roots which grew deep
Are soaking in poison
Feeding the poison through the tree,
And affecting the modern members.
Anger the only root.
These roots are becoming ghosts.
They watch us.
Our moves.
Our actions.
My family is not a family.
These roots which was so deep are killing us at the top
Our lives falling like leaves in the fall.
I know that I want to make a new tree.
But let it not be in vein.
I will learn from this old tree,
An old mentor,
Who lived a life most unsatisfied.
This new life starts at 18,
Carving my name at the beginning,
And as I live,
I will see the sapling grow,
While watching the other tree die.
Its pain is my gain,
Because I am learning the tricks of the trade,
I am learning how to escape the grips of anger,
The accuser who condemned my family for generations.
I will break free,
Grow with the tree.

My family’s branches are high, but alas far.
They are becoming separated, but I am young and watching.
They say that your life is set by your parents,
But I am not fueled by abusive fire,
I have grown past them,
I have thrown this virus of the tree away.
I am not going to fix their problems,
But I am growing my own success,
My future.
This sapling here,
The seed to be birthed,
It is going to grow,
So tall.
These notes I have scribbled,
Will lead to the happiness of my child,
The contentness of my wife,
The success of the spawn of us.
This tree is going to take a long time to grow.
It will learn from its mistakes as its predecessor did not.
It will be tall.
Making this broken tree nothing more than a shell,
This life,
This tree.
It is going to be free.
The sickening evil for blood with dry up,
The new tree will feed on smiles and happiness,
And out will sprout
The family,
I have always hoped for.

But this hope started somewhere.
This hope I birthed had pain.
It is a spawn of abuse.
Which seems to be the main cause for the old tree to dig so deep.
The anger of the leader spread somewhere,
And though not everyone is the cause,
We were ALL effected.
It took our values
Pushed them to the depths of hell
And left a chilling heat of anger and hate,
And though this is a debate,
Our family’s trajectory is going straight to hell,
Back to the man who gave us anger.
I cry today,
For those who were consumed by the darkness.
I feel sorry for those in the tree who did not reach for the sun,
Who did not fight for the family,
Who did not fight the urge to inflict pain.
A sad thing indeed,
But this is why I have the need
To start again.
This is why this life,
This current tree
Just isn’t working.
I’m tired of being fed hate.
It not too late.
My tree is going to grow strong.
It’s starting now,
Here
Today
It always has been.
I was superglued to someone else’s tree.
Taught their values.
Taught their insecurities and told they were my own.
But the forbidden word.
No.
Is becoming my advocate.
I will reach for the sun.
I vow to encourage
I vow to take what is rightfully mine.
I vow to start anew.
Make this tree reach high.
This new tree will never know the “Mendoza” way of things.
This new tree
Started by a sad situation
And a definite resolution
Is becoming truth.
I may have grew up in the poison,
But more and more ii have found a cure,
Immune to anger
To hate
I have found that these roots of their tree,
Which has poisoned each twig,
Has one fault.
It never tried to reach for the sun.
So I,
I take this,
And I make this my own.
This house is not my home,
But things will bend
And I will break,
And start anew.
I will live to see my family flourish.
As its predecessor did not
for my family