My mom is a Weeping Willow.
Bendable beyond belief.
But breakable.
Your mom is a Locust tree
Unmoving. Stubborn.
And adorned with thorns.
We grew up in their shadow.
But we are not the same.
We bend with the wind.
And our roots run deep.
Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 7:15 PM UTC
My mom is a Weeping Willow.
Bendable beyond belief.
But breakable.
Your mom is a Locust tree
Unmoving. Stubborn.
And adorned with thorns.
We grew up in their shadow.
But we are not the same.
We bend with the wind.
And our roots run deep.