Brooding tree


I feel like a tree…

But my branches did not grow, I pasted them with glue.

I feel obliged to feed these branches,

With the water that I soaked from the ground…

And, I realize, sometimes without me knowing,

they feed on me.

I need to cut these branches, these distractions down,

But I am only growing upwards,

Without reflecting on what’s adding up.

They weigh me down,

And hinder my growth,

As a tree…

As a human being.



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