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Her soul is wilting Wilting A word she knows all to well All of her plants have started wilting long ago How can you keep something else alive When you're barely living yourself Her leaves Are crumbling Split ends like spilt branches He says: "Your hair Is only as good As the head its growing on And and your head Isn't doing so well itself How can you expect anything beautiful to grow from so much darkness. Trees Don't grow in the dark." She Tries to get her thoughts out of the Dark The midnight abyss she calls her mind But she Has never been good at climbing Cliff faces look down and laugh at her attempt to ascend She Pretends like she can't see them staring Arms growing weak and weary Her roots Feel as if they're about to break But she never gets a break Never gets to rest She's stressed who would have guessed That Behind her Big smile Lies Wilting leaves Split branches And broken roots Ready to fall apart No one seems to see That the only thing Keeping her together And Grounded Is the ground itself And even that Is only as stable As the world its sitting on.
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Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 11:08 AM UTC
Trees (wilting)