The Remorseful Tree

A reminder of my roots

Watching life move on, while standing in the breeze,

I sing a song of Solomon as I live my life of ease.

Why do I want to blend in so much

with the lives near and all around,

when I've been set apart and crutched

with my feet stuck in the ground?

Some days it feels I'm sinking

into the depths of my despair,

but then I can't help thinking

of the pain that people share.

Maybe I'm convenient, to those struggling to swim;

standing here against the torrent, I offer a weary limb.

I don't know what you're thinking

and some days I can't say I care,

but when the light fades away in the evening,

I want you to know I'm there.

Let it all go freely, and share your pain with me;

help yourself to the sturdiness of this remorseful tree.

I cannot solve your problems, or help you in your quests,

but I can stop you for a moment, and perhaps offer some rest.

I am but just a withered tree, admiring others' fruits,

yet this sickness comes not from my leaves,

but from my twisted, bitter roots.

You begin to cut your ties with me, heading out on your own...

I wish you could stay to see,

but I understand that you have to grow.

Perhaps you'll find me useful then,

once you've drifted far away...

While I can't say I see when,

I pray we'll meet again someday.