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Yonder Tree

By J Ann Crowder

Look! Yonder tree,
    disillusioned, and
         perplexing in her masked beauty
 
Her, plight mangled by dotty roads
 
’Tis an expanding snare, growing stiff whilst plunging her blind into a pothole’s abyss
 
Again, and
    again, and
         AGAIN!
 
Placing her on a bed of sandpaper; a cage embodied by her mind’s ever winding grip
 
Becoming an unsound state of being, swallowing her whole with gaping jaws of unknowing, slumbering nights
 
A loathsome NIGHTMARE!
    night, woeful,
         night, moonstruck—
 
Like potholes madly driven
 
She, writhes inside their daft air
 
Stuck in a box that can only be open from the outside
 
Such is yonder tree,
    isolated, and
         yearning
 
Wanting to break free from frozen, cracked mud pressing her roots
 
She, grows old and mad as a mad—'MAD HATTER'
 
Upon ever winding days she spins madly,
    witless,
         helpless, and
              alone
 
Alone in the end
 
ALONE,
     IN,
          THE,
               END!
 
’Tis old yonder tree
 
Yet,
 
I still see her beauty beneath disillusioned bark and ever striving roots, suffocating in mud
 
Roots ever waning,
    twisting,
         breaking, and
              aching, to be set free

Dedicated to those who suffer from mental illness. Written May 31st, 2016.

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