Wooden Mountain

I reached for the wood,

Like it was a life preserver;

Legs swinging,

I held on;

I was Rose and the tree was Jack,

And I wasn't going to fall down;

I propped myself on the branch,

Looking across the yard

I saw the beauty of it all.

This poem is about: 
Me

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