Poem 1

Here, on display
Are the seeds of anger and dismay
That you have planted in my heart
On the day of your depart
And every day since then, I wept
With each tear, the anger krept
The dismay was more apparent
With each tear, I grew more transparent
There isn't much that's left of me
Aside the pain that all can see
A lonely exhibit of a tree
Ripe with the fruit of agony