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The Poet Tree Oct 2018
I just got caught up in a memory, a mischievous moment, brought on by an old song that I didn't even realise was on,
I caught myself smiling, then tears started to well in my eyes,
And then it was gone.
what's up with that?
The Poet Tree Oct 2018
I love being alone, I just hate waking up alone,
I'm looking at my phone, Hello, I've been home,
I miss the morning bustle, piddling, paddling, what's for breakfast, where's my comb,
I hate being alone, feeling bored, restless, feeling lazy,
Almost feel guilty for the amount that they pay me,
Yeah, money is great, but it's not the be all to end all,
It's not the ice cream truck in summer, or scraped knees in the fall,
It's not hot cocoa by the fireplace in winter, or baseball in the spring ,
I'm chuckling to myself, I sound like Julie Andrews, these are a few of my favorite things,
I love waking up alone with the house to myself, I can have donuts for breakfast and not have to share with anyone else,
I miss sharing my donuts, or giving just one bite,
Pretty please,They know if they keep asking I just might,
I will, I would always relent, how could I say no,
How quickly they grow, and they were happy to go,
To live on their own, they don't know what their doing,
Now if you need any help, it's okay dad, I'm fine,
But I'm not, can't tell them that though, I'm fine too, I'm lying,
I hate being alone, and not fixing what breaks,
Like besties promises, young hearts, and rules that I'd make,
I loved waking up with a start, with three sets of feet,
Three tiny toes like ice cubes, freezing me under the sheets,
Taking up all the room, now it seems there is so much space,
In my place, in the closets, in the driveway, and their accounts in the bank,
Eventually, my phone is gonna ring, how much? You need it when?
I love this, I hate that, but I love loving them.
The Poet Tree Oct 2018
Sometimes I feel, like a fatherless child,
Gone astray, depending on old unreliable me,
Sometimes I feel, like a fatherless child,
Lord why am I struggling,
Why am I  struggling when I'm free

Sometimes I feel, like a fatherless child,
Wake up and I'm crying,
Feels like I'm running out of time,
Sometimes I feel,
like a fatherless child,
That which I want to do I don't do,
But that which I don't want to do
Lord I do it all the time
The Poet Tree Oct 2018
Sometimes sad says it all, just sad nothing more to add, just sad,
Does it really mean, Sad, Angry, and Depressed? Or like those monotonous days at school, Sitting At Desk, how about, Staring At Death? Rather ominous, but I think sad says it best,
I can't put my finger on it, it's everything, it's nothing, it's
Everyone, it's me, just me, being me, it's what I know how to be,
Sad, sad knows what it's doing, to me,
S-A-D, yep, there's nothing else it needs.
The Poet Tree Oct 2018
I Shall Drink No More Forever

  I shall drink no more forever, the bottles are already gone. My days and nights are endless, the moments in-between are long. This pain is not everlasting, my guilt not forevermore, abstinence is the cure for this madness, humility unlocks the door. On bended knee we pray for forgiveness and intervention from our Lord, searching our soul for answers, until the truth from the heart is poured. We stand and stare in the mirror, at the stranger staring back, looking for any signs of weakness and the courage we may still lack. My life is a story of sorrows, self-inflicted wounds repeated oft again, searching the bottom of a bottle for answers to problems, finding out it's where they began.

   I shall drink no more forever, the battle cry of my soul, serenity is the cadence I march to, one day at a time my goal. We must forgive and ask forgiveness to start healing, understanding our right to be hurt, making a fearless and searching moral inventory, of our mind where the pain still lurks. I must believe that I am worth saving, that the price not too much to pay, that my mind and spirit remain willing, that there is no easier softer way. Many will doubt that I can do this, even family and those I once called friends, their doubts cannot cause me to falter, my strength must come from within. To them I give nothing but silence, I can convince only He that's above, who grants unconditional pardon, and remembers not what I was. Admitting that I am powerless to manage my life, or win any battle I've fought, believing that there is only One who could, and would if He were sought. Along recovery's road I hope someday to stand, helping other lost souls along, I shall drink no more forever, the bottles are already gone.
The Poet Tree Oct 2018
I don't think I've ever heard a tree complain about being just a tree,
About those roots locking them to the ground, or all the things it doesn't get to see,
Maybe they get tired of squirrels and cats, or birds perched on branches they provide,
I wonder if they have some envy under that bark, does jealousy reside inside?
Tomboys climb, canines sniff, a tire swing hangs off a limb,
Do they feel naked in the fall, scared in the winter, do trees imagine what they might have been?
I suppose I could think of a million reasons, way too many to try and name,
For the Oak, the Redwood, Pine and Fir, or Sequoia to complain,
To be just a tree, I imagine must be, quite the unbearable task,
Sentenced to a lifetime of silence, never, crying, never sharing a laugh,
When we call them majestic might they feel miniscule, when we say grand could they be feeling glum,
Not being able to correct my describer, might leave me frustratingly numb,
Still though, I've never heard a tree complain about being, just a tree,
Do you think it could be something as simple, as just a tree is what a tree wants to be?
The Poet Tree Oct 2018
You could never tell by the look in those eyes, that most days I don't feel like a Prince,
More like a pauper, sometimes a fraud,
To this princess that would make no sense,
She would never know by the smile on my face, that inside I hide a frown,
She sees, Daddy the Great, when all I see is Poppa the Clown,
You could never tell as she hugs tight around my neck,
as if she'd been  missing me for years,
She pulls me by the hand, and I stumble behind,
Wiping away a happy, guilty tear,
I work so much so she doesn't want, myself I'm trying to convince,
I'm missing her grow, all curly hair, dimples and innocence
I try not to break the tiny chair at the tiny table she's prepared,
Joined by Ducky, Mister Fits, and Bear Bear,
Daddy, tea is best when it's shared,
Of course it is sweetie, Daddy! Did you forget?
Me? No, and we sing, Duck Duck, Fit Fit,
Then we growl like Bear Bear, clink our tiny cups, and then Together we sip.
The Poet Tree Apr 2019
Dear child that I never knew, who knew?
I was growing up but no showing up in your life, my life now without you,
That I would miss your alls, joys, your pains, happiness and your sorrows,
My choice was, live for today but I killed our tomorrow,
All grown up without the help of a so-called dad,
I stole for granted all those things now I will never have,
I look back with regret and suspect you won't let,
The sun ever set on a child of your own that you never met,
Can't wipe your eyes when you cried,
Pride wouldn't let me be a man when I was still a boy inside,
I tried but I lied to the one you can't lie to,
So my only advice is to yourself be true.
The Poet Tree Oct 2018
Momma tell me something, tell me why I couldn't see,
That you were a woman to you, before you were a mother to me,
Have I been that selfish, thinking that your reason to be,
That the point of your existence, was just so you could give birth to me?

Momma help me out, I need you to explain, I knew that you were hurting but I never wanted to see, thought you deserved your pain,
Why am I still so angry, I've been mad at you, blamed you for so long,
Did you let me be right knowing that I was wrong?

Now I've been the parent, I've had children of my own,
You must have seen me as a child acting grown,
If I had asked you then, would you have tried to make me understand,
Could you have convinced me that I was still a boy, and not yet a man?
Worries and fears I have had for my kids, Is that what you felt for me?
I catch myself saying to them the exact same things I hated when you said them to me,
But my kids love me Momma so how could this be?

I was just so angry with you as a child, everything that went wrong, you were to blame,
Although if I was right about you raising me wrong, why have I raised my kids just the same?

Not once did it occur to me that you were different before you gave birth to me, allowed to make mistakes, without four mouths to feed,
Are you saying you didn't want to put your life on hold, drop everything and attend to me?
I didn't know you weren't born with a mother's wisdom, or patience, that there was no how-to book,
I just thought you were born holding a switch, and that y'all better-stop-playing look.

Maybe we don't appreciate our Mother's until we have kids of our own,
Maybe by not taking the time to look, some things never get shown,
Being grown now means that when I'm having one of those days,
You're not around to tell me it's ok, or kiss my boo boo away,
I have to be my own family's doctor, referee, cook, and bank,
I have been able to do it so far, and it's you I have to thank.

Thank you God for not letting Mother's hold grudges, what they go through the world could never repay,
Momma, as long as breath is in you, I'll try to make everyday, Mother's Day,
So I'm sending all the love I have towards an overdue I.O.U.,
Settling up with the Father above, for sending me a Woman, that turned into a Mother like you.
The Poet Tree Oct 2018
What was your very first thought when you woke up today?
Did you stretch eyes closed, stretch,
Behind closed lids look up left or right,
Morning Creek, snaps, cracks,
loosening those joints stiffened overnight,
Did you stretch, eyes closed, deep breath, big morning smile,
Or sit up, sigh, eyes open, lay back down for awhile,
I sit on the edge of the bed while my mind starts to reboot,
rub a hand over stubble, mental note to shave,
Maybe, I can probably go one more day,
Do you, like me, now pick from column B, or coulumn A,
Take my morning constitutional, hmm, cereal or fruit?
Still haven't moved yet, but I have changed hands, not rubbing my face,
I'm in my Thinking man's stance, sitting though, on the edge of my bed,
Time to start moving and out of my head,
Like that's gonna happen, my brain doesn't take breaks,
Whether I'm studying psychological pathology or which flavor kool-aide to make, of course, grape,
Which reminds me, I need to go to the store, I need real food in the house,
Man, I don't feel like going to the grocery store,
7-11 is gonna cost so much more, throwing money away,
It is closer though, what the hell, three days to payday,
Okay, now what was I, that's right, bathroom time,
Grab my phone, I know you gotta go Gunner, my dog, but get in line,
I'll end this before the lavatory, that's just, I couldn't do y'all that way, anyway,
What was your very first thought when you woke up today?
The Poet Tree Oct 2018
******
is not,
the Finish Line
is not,
What
******
is about,
******
My friend,
is to understand
The End,
is not
******
for them,
For Women,
******
is the route.
The Poet Tree Nov 2018
Will the first time be the last time, and can I forgive you for the last time I forgave you for the memories of the last time you loved me,
Was the last time the first time I gave a little, trusted a little, cried myself into believing that the first time was the last time I hurt myself for believing the last time was never going to be the first time ever again, I should just leave me alone.
The Poet Tree Nov 2018
Theirs was the love of a lifetime, that both let slip away,
Forgetting that you can't grow flowers without some rainy days,
Cover your head from the showers,
Miss the rainbow through the rain,
The itsy-bitsy seeds of doubt, brought forth
A harvest of regret and pain.
The Poet Tree Oct 2018
I was really really close, you know,
Horseshoes and hand grenades,
Who makes hay when it's raining?
Down to my last lemon,
And my pitcher was  filled with koolaide,
If a wish is a dream your heart makes, and sometimes wishes do come true,
Then I can't stop believing in miracles,
I hear they sometimes come true too.
The Poet Tree Nov 2018
Thanks, thank you, thanks, no complaints, nothing to see here, no not that, not again, another year, thanks, thank you, you shouldn't have, shouldn't have had, THANK YOU, thanks.
The Poet Tree Oct 2018
She crumbles me, She crumbled me,
Left me here as sand,
Humiliated me, Rejected me,
It must have always been her plan.

She crumbles me, She crumbled me,
Denied me to my face,
Walks away from me,
Smugly,
She put me in my place.

I roared,
Why can't you be more like, whomever,
Or so and so, and such,
Why can't I be your everything,
Your world,
Is That asking too much?

Why won't you love me desperately,
As if without me you can't even breathe,
Why must you question everything,
Why can't you ever just believe?

Why can't you cook like my mother,
I work hard, I just want to relax,
Why can't you dress more like a lady,
Why can't you be a ***** in the sack?

Why don't you make me feel better,
Stroke my ego when I'm feeling low,
Why can't you read my mind, not all the time,
Some things you should just already know.

Why must you always embarrass me,
Whenever we hang out with friends,
Always with your opinions, and your stories,
While I'm thinkin, Here we go again.

Why can't you be more open and sharing, and caring and daring and
Is that what you're wearing?
Why would I lie,
How did I make you cry,
Just tell me Why, Why,
Just tell me Why?

She crumbles me, She humbled me,
Shook her head sadly, let go of my hand,
She looked at me, pitifully, staring,
What?
You wouldn't understand,
She said,
I know it's hard for you to see me, to love me just as I am,
But maybe, just maybe I'll be that kind of Woman,
When you're more of that kind of Man.
The Poet Tree Oct 2018
He's bleeding, he's dying, His mother is crying,
Organized chaos we're trying to revive him but my hands just keep sliding,
Keep pushing more drugs and he's fighting, wait, now he's flat-lining,
Can't find a good vein from years of mainlining,
Shock one, two, shock three, for time borrowed not buying,
We can't stop the bleeding from holes we aren't finding,
Doc checks the clock so I know he's deciding, how much longer we go
when the seconds are flying but he just won't stop bleeding, his body is crying,
Call it,
Stop compressions,
Time of death...
The Poet Tree Oct 2018
Behind my back with fingers crossed,
Eyes tightly closed, I wish,
If I tell you what I wished for then it won't come true,
what wicked mind came up with this?
What if I asked you to wish my wish for me,  And I'll wish your wish for you.

— The End —