My roots are buried deep in land,
Testing the hourglass and the sand.
Stretching deeper to find the core,
Having enough, but craving for more.
Twisting and gnarling into knots
Weak from the dig, I feel how it rots
Poisoned myself from my mission,
With Greed, Need, and Misplaced Ambition.
Reach for the sun, my mother dear,
Beg her for mercy, but she won't hear.
Call the rain for a second chance,
But it won't provide a single glance.
Left on my own to wilt and die,
Too weak to call and too weak to cry.
As I fade without my glory,
I'll warn the saplings of my story.
YOU ARE READING
A Random Collection of Poems
PoetryIn this collection of poetry, you'll find poetry about love, mental health, and existential questions. Who would be the last person you'd speak to? If you had a choice, would you rather drown or burn? How do people with mental struggles cope unheal...
