be a tree

The struggle to stay the way you once was is hard. 
Because you're fighting against yourself , whose trying to gradually grow 
Innocence is meant to be converted. 
Our faiths are meant to be challenged 
Our love is meant to be questioned

 

Because overtime we grow, we lose our innocence, our faiths either grow or fall, our hearts either make or break. 
We become ourselves, struggling in the process.

 

It's all apart of this novel we call life.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741