The Tree - Poem by Julian Old
Another tree was crying
It's leaves rushed to and throw
Before descending just like raindrops
Amongst the cold winter snow
Towering high like an inferno
It stood like a statue, bare and still.
A bird landed on its branches,
Making it feel warmer, much more secure.
Cheered up by its new companion
No longer did it stand in pain
A new element of life had been given for
pride and respect - not pain.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye