Wednesday, June 29, 2011

AN OLD OAK TREE | POEATREEMAN on Xanga







  • AN OLD OAK TREE


    You are
    a Young
    Flower

    I am
    An
    Old
    Oak
    Tree


    You are
    Blossoming

    While
    I am
    Withering
    Away


    I had my
    Spring

    When
    I Blossomed
    too


    Yet
    my Branches
    are
    not as New


    My Roots
    are Firm

    Though
    the Soil
    is Loose


    I will Fall Soon
    be
    at your feet


    So Remember
    when
    I Stood


    I
    Tried
    to be Straight


    Perfect
    I Was Not

    For the Soil
    was
    not Great


    I had my Falls
    Limbs
    were
    Broken too


    Yet
    I Held Up

    When Others
    thought
    I Would not


    The Ground
    is Opened

    I must
    Return to all


    Shed no Tears
    For
    the Leaves
    have
    Finally Fallen.


    Dedicated to @Naomi Stansfield
    A Soft Soul

    A Poeatreeman

    When I was
    Young

    I Tried
    to be Straight


    I Grew as Life
    Would
    have me Stand


    Yet
    I Stood Up

    gave it a Hand

    I Thank God
    For
    Letting me Sow
    I had the Seasons
    To Change and Grow.

    A Poet’s Note


    FORTITUDE
    Do Not Say
    Timber Yet

    I Am Not
    Ready To Fall


    Do Not
    Cut Me Down

    For
    I Stand Tall


    If
    You Want To Grow

    Cut
    No One Down


    Then
    You Will Stand Tall.



    Edgar Allan Prieto
    8/13/2000
    Copyright ©2007 Edgar Allan Prieto







AN OLD OAK TREE | POEATREEMAN on Xanga

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