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Tears beneath the Willow

I cry to myself,
As my tears falling soundlessly upon my pillow.
Before soaking into the earth,
Where I sit beneath the willow.
 
This willow is special,
For it has a purpose.
Though to you it may just be a tree
The great spirit inside her is what matters to me
 
Her long swaying branches caress my cheeks
While the wind whispers a lullaby as it blows through her leaves.
She protects me, as well as many others over the years,
For she has always hated to see a child’s tears.
 
Her strong branches reach high,
and on many occasions, she had seen someone die,
So she now protects;
and loves, and cares
 
She wishes she had helped in the beginning,
For She wants to have peace
as her limbs grow weary.
 
She will go soon,
this she knows,
but for now she will still go on
With lengthening a life for them to have happy times
 
She sleeps now,
but what I see is another little leaf
as from the ground, it pokes free
A new life is born and her spirit is set free.
 
Her leaves fall and her branches become bare.
She shrinks and crumbles to support what will soon be there
And all the tears that soaked the ground
Are now what will help the new young sapling spread its roots across the ground.

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