The Kite-Part 3 Poem by Deborah Cromer

Often in days of calm, I look up into that tree
The area overgrown with more trees and branches so free
I look, I have to look long and hard to try and find
The kite still trapped and tangled that haunts my mind
Finally I see it, colorless, motionless it still hangs on
All of it's freedom and flight are forever gone
Trapped and kept, it remains unavailable to the air
Dead, lonely and hidden, nobody knows it's still there
Only me, for I do remember always what it painfully stands for
A memory of loss and disaster that hurts my heart's core
Someday it will rot and deteriorate, falling pieces to the ground
Releasing the torture of my history, without a crashing sound
No one will know on that day of freedom and love
Only God who has watched my life from above
Today the kite still hanging as a symbol of yesterday's time
Hangs there trapped and secret, encouraging my words to rhyme
Reminding me of days of different, when I deeply believed in you
Thinking our love was forever and you would always be true
How things changed and we just totally fell apart
I carry around daily wounded pieces of my broken heart