SOuLSON

Dedicated to my dearest friend

Your words come easy in poems
Though you never can say what you mean
You have fiddled around in emotions
And think you know more than you see

Let me explain this loud and clear
If it weren't for either, none would be here
You play a victim so awfully well
The crime of passion so easy to
S-P-E-L-L

I love you deeply, my friend, yes I do
But you gawk as though, I were a zoo
Perhaps my mind is equal in such
Your judgements crash down,
Crushed

I try to help in the way that I can
Wrong
I reach out for you in comfort
Wrong
I give up and let you be
But it FEELS wrong
Woe upon woe to easy to see
To awful to be, the gnarled bark of a tree.

Yes, a tree, once lush and green,
Now but a willowy wounded
Old thing

I will remain here, clippers at side,
To prun and to clean,
Before you have
The chance
To die.

Author's Note

The roots can be suffocating, but I'll breathe when I can.