The true me

Can’t you see?

The weight of the world is constantly weighing on me

Like the branch of a tree,

Delicate, Stiff, Weak.

I can’t show the real me

Because someone might see

That all I want to be

Is that of a tree,

Growing,

Dancing,

Changing with the seasons.

The curtain in front of me

So people cannot see

I only wish to be free

Growing, dancing, changing with the seasons,

Like a tree.