Her Little Palm Tree

She looks at it.

It looks at her.

Like looking in a mirror.

Nature vs. Nurture.

She reclines her seat

As she watches the breeze

Whisk around the palms

And give ache in her feet.

The fighter stands strong

Through every rough storm.

The damage is done

And trunk is all worn.

But it still stays there,

With its roots in the ground.

Withstanding its battles

Never being knocked down.

She tries to stand up

Though it’s truly a fight.

Pushing down heavily

Though her body is light.

Through surgery and surgery,

Every scan there could be,

The scars of this woman

Form an everlasting beauty.

Branches have broken,

Some palms are brown,

Leaning slightly to the left,

But never falling down.

The tree survives through

Hurricanes again and again

Others around

Never make it to the end.

But because of her,

It sees faith in the world,

To fight the fight

Just for this girl.

And as her legs swell, arms thin,

Hair falls out, the journey ends,

She looks out her window

To see,

The strongest one out there,

Her little palm tree.

Though beaten and pushed,

Been trampled by fear,

The beautiful wonder is still standing here.


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