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Please Fix Me? I'm Dying.
There's a tree over there
Standing alone in a field.
She's dying.
Branches are falling,
Bark stripped off, infested by termites and ants.
Her arms are sickly twisted,
They are reaching out for help,
But there is none to be given;
There is no care.
Our race is deranged, leaving the aging trunk to drown
In her own sorrows and contours of death.
It's nearing the dark,
The sun is escaping the warmth of the sky,
Fleeing the crude looks of her heart.
But one can understand such blunt reactions,
Of course.
There is no hope for her mad, disturbed face.
No creature dares to take a step
In her solemn direction.
There are gouges and scrapes and scratches and such;
Who could defy the approval of society?
The permission, the recognition of acceptance.
What single person would,
Flourish oneself in such shame and adversity?
Who?
She's dying.
She's crying inside those broken limbs.
Her gashes need filling;
Lacerations need sewing up.
Silence must be occupied by some other form of sound.
A lullaby maybe, or some cheerful tune,
A sweet melody of happiness?
She needs sanction, a sincere place to hide,
But where is there to go in such a barren location?
No where.
Yet her roots are tearing out of the ground
Ready to make a dash for it
To forever disappear.
For isn't that what humanity rules?
The insane are left on that eerie ground,
To be stared at as if an attraction, some kind of show.
Young ones point at her, asking why there is no beauty?
Why only is there death?
She's dying.
Soon enough her anchor is lifted,
And she collapses to the ground,
But there is no one there, not anymore
To watch and point and stare as she withers away.
She is forgotten,
Just as they all are.
And an innocent sapling takes her place
In that lonely terrain.
Only to be eyed by the ever judging world
And to be assaulted
And suffocate under the weight of disparagement.
She too will disintegrate;
She will be starved of acknowledgement
Of any form.
And will be pushed to death,
Just the same as the last.
She will be forgotten; they all are.
They are all dying,
Not just her.
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