PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Gazing out into the mystical night, I didn't know what to do.
They were so many options.
Why was it up to me to decide?

I go outside.
Climbing my tree, I temporarily forgot my thoughts.
I sat on my favorite branch.

Dangling my legs, I began to think again.
I pandered and played with ideas.
Tears trickled down my cheeks.

A dark shadow slowly neared my beloved tree.
There he stood holding an ax.
It was time.

I numbly got down my tree.
I watched him hack down my tree.
My tears were streaming down my cheeks.

All of my memories growing up went down with my tree.
I didn't feel safe anymore.
My thoughts spun wildly in my head.

I dropped to the ground like a rock.
I didn't care about anyone or anything, but my tree.
I knew it had to be done.

From that day on, I would never be the same.
The world and people meant nothing to me.
When my tree had been hacked down, my spirit had died.