Not so little

Two sycamore trees bounded by a vine

who was just a seedling at the time.

Where a trailing plant was once relentless on letting loose,

Because it was blinded by memories

When the youthful sunshine cascaded and wedded with the wind,

Who both were responsible for engendering

the two barked trees and the seedling of the trailing plant.

But one day, the sky was overcast by grey clouds, foreboding an odious weather 

And soon the clouds masked the golden sphere, and all involved suffered.

Sunless, the seedling’s world was turned upside down

And the seedling’s parents became each other’s enemy and brawled

A gust of wind roared between the pair while the leaves violently rustled day and night.

Miserable, the vine 's feeble arms detached itself from its parent 

Where the seedling was left alone to endure the situation

But one day, when the sun came out again

The seedling had rejuvenated into a beautiful, emerald-colored vine 

And viewed the world with a new perspective on life.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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