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Breeze, Softly Whisper..the pink petals fall from the tree much like the salty drops from my eyes i just can't help but set free.. silently rapidly i watch as these petals descend and the tree becomes bare.. within myself i feel this painful disease others can't see but is so real.. so alone i crouch meditatively my heart lamenting and starting to tear as i say goodbye to my own hair.. sometimes i want out of myself so badly to meta-morph into a tree or the birds that sing in it so prettily instead i am very much here brows furrowed just me being me lucky tree.. is it easy for you to lose your petals, then your leaves and start all over again? or is it pain filled reality with the teeny, tiny hope of both our branches (or arms) reaching for God in the end? this disease filled body it is in such agony this is not where i want to be and if right now i WAS a tree my roots would be dug up for the world to see.. can i please change with you tree? can i please sing with you birds? would you change and fly with me? tell me i am not lonely or forgotten.. i am one with the universe whether i wear petals leaves feathers or cotton.. grant me rebirth to my once fighting spirit.. asking the wind to join with the earth and cover these exposed roots whispering away this suffering to give way to my recovery.. Vote for this poem
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