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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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