There's a tree, that we used to meet by,
You always came, you never asked why.
We would talk, for hours and hours,
As on the tree, grows little pink flowers.
When it's cold the tree is bare,
The tree would shiver,from the cold air.
During summer, the green leaves would grow,
The tree would sleep, as the hot air begins to blow.
That tree held memories, big and small,
With every memory, a leaf would fall.
YOU ARE READING
Poems For The Sad Soul
PoetryTake my hand, come with me, I have something interesting for you to see. Poems here and poems there, Poems and books everywhere. Filled with dreams and filled with tears, Sometimes hopes and sometimes fears. So take my hand there's so much to see, ...
