Even Trees Need Time Poem by Angela Bontle Ditumiso

You've always known what dreams are made of
That they are half-reality
And half-expectation
You've always known the meaning of miscarrying
That sometimes we lose
The treasures, the dreams we carry within

Dear younger me
You've turned out great
All the seeds you carried
Sprouted into seedlings,
Grew into beautiful trees
You've been a good nurturer

I'm happy you're the person you are
For staying true to yourself
Even though people sometimes
Hate you for not fitting into boxes
And always find flaws in you
It is good to be you, right even.