Prose and Poetry for Pain

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You Said You're a Tree

It was not that worse on the first days.

The dim will pass you always say.

You stand like you understand the world.

Then you see something, hear something familiar,

Something that was part of rough edges that imprinted scars in your skin.

Still, you said you’re a tree that couldn’t be budge, your roots stayed true in fighting what you thought was just a drizzle.

You felt rain showers and you think it would soon stop.

A tree needs a little rain you say.

But, you refused to see, the heavy clouds with chains wrapped around your trunk. Any moment the downpour can come.

Yet, you painted your leaves with the color of sunshine and close your eyes drinking on the resplendent color you surrounded yourself.

And you think, I’ll be okay.

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