Dying Tree

Wed, 01/31/2018 - 21:37 -- CIT

I'm living life as if a dying tree.

I find myself corroding with the days.

A rot inside that nobody can see.

 

My instincts are no longer trustworthy.

Suppose that is why caring sometimes pays.

I'm living life as if a dying tree.

 

I'm doubtful I'm intended still to be.

Still dying despite trying for delay.

A rot inside that nobody can see.

 

So tall, so slim, not scarred, she's so pretty.

I'm standing but I'm running out of ways.

I'm living life as if a dying tree.

 

You search only for ways of cutting me.

Don't bother I'll be going anyways.

I'm living life as if a dying tree.

A rot inside that nobody can see.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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