Fri, 10/04/2013 - 15:59 -- sofiavc

I stand.
I sway.
I dance to the music of the winds.
I grow.
I bloom.
I prosper under the love of the sun.
I curl.
I wilt.
I suffer the abuse of storms.
Seasons pass,
Friends are plucked,
And families die.
But I stay.
And I stand.
I survive.
Rooted in place.
Or at least my forever.
Until the roots of my life rot
Or the petals of my will are plucked.
As long as my forever can last.
As long as I can outlast
the unforgiving
true forever
of death.

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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