The Weeping Willow
Kaylee Casutt
The winds do wilt the perfect willow
Making it weep on the wayside
Still she stands as the winds do billow
But something is waiting outside
Suppose amidst a sign is shown
The whipping winds warn danger
A powerful man who stands alone
Will take the trees, no more a stranger
This man did see the swaying tree
And says this tree doth weep
For it is weak to stand for me
When limbs do fall and seep
At that moment, the tree did say
“I am a willow amidst my weeping
Why must you look at me that way
Of the unique beauty I am keeping?”
The man did huff and shake his head,
“You steal the forest, you are a crook.
I’d rather have perfect willows instead
Of a hideous tree I hate to look.”
The wind whistles, the willows creak
But the sad willow sways like the sea
The man still looks at it week by week
And spits that it’s not the same tree
The other willows watch her strangely
A willow whose branches don’t stand
It makes her feel hideous and gangly
When she’s merely a diamond in the sand
Then the man came with axe in hand
He swung and struck the tree
But hard and strong the tree did stand
And told him to leave her be
He huffed and raged and threw the axe
The tree did not budge or break
But he looked up and faced the facts
That he’d have to up the stakes
At the moment, the man did know
In misery that tree will stop growing
Little by little the willow will show
Dead branches that ceased to be flowing
So he took his axe and stormed away
The willow stood still for a bit
The other trees spat and hissed by day
That the willow will never fit
The water stopped coming, the sun no more
The weeping willow did wilt
All her hopes from long before
Now nothing but wood and guilt
Months had gone with little strength
The willows have since forgot her
The weeping willow shrunk low in length
As the winds did push and stir
Soon the leaves did whither and break
They littered the dusty dry ground
The other willows looked so fake
As the rumors and lies went around
The man returned with greed in his eye
Holding the axe too tight
He smiled to see the willow cry
And struck her without a fight
But the willow withheld, standing tall
Crippling her would not take her down
An axe would not make her fall
So the man struck again with a frown
The willow cried, “this is my home,
Stop tormenting me this way
Can you please just leave me alone
Instead of hurting me day by day?”
The man smirked and struck once more
“You are different, this is the end
You wilt so much you touch the floor
Nothing should be left to mend.”
The willow cried and wailed above,
“I need thy help, where art thou god?
Do I deserve thy care and love?
But this man but thinks I am a fraud.”
The willow tried to be a fighter
Her wood was dry, she wished for rain
But the man knew and drew a lighter
And lit the poor willow into flame
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Note: If you want to read more of this poem, please message me and I will send you the rest of it.