It wasn't a willow tree,

                     It wasn't pine,

      Definitely not a place to hide a form of dime

             Defended your high honor,

               Talked endlessly for days

         Where embrace took breath away

     Promises to always stay

               But things don't go as plan,

            And I'm no longer your most admired fan

       Under that big tree no longer stands

            The wood curved to host,

    Mocking tree with wood,

           A cruel joke

      Under tree, I'm a fish out of water,

           Breathing becomes harder

    I shake from the cold,

Even though sun shines in pure gold?

          Dirt sticks to crimson stained skin

      Bare like the tableless tree,

   Heart mourns to the akin

Of the disjointed promises to be free

             And the never knowing

     Taste of thee