The Weed

This is still a work in progess, so as edits are made I’ll be updating it. I thought I’d go ahead and share it though.

The Weed

I am a weed
But I want to be a tree

I look for the sun,
Longing for its warmth,
Yet I struggle to feel it on my skin
Too cold from the shadows created within.

Unquenchable thirst,
Desperate to taste something pure,
But there will never be enough
To help me grow, I'm sure.

So fragile and frail,
Easy to pick at or pluck.
Yet in this muddy bed
I feel completely stuck.

My arms can't stretch,
They're so little and weak.
My voice so tiny,
Why bother to speak?

I long to sway,
To be set free,
But I'm just a weed
Wishing to be a tree. 

©S.T. '18
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Author: Sara's Words

Writing isn't just apart of my life; I live through it. For as long as I can remember, I've been writing. Whether it be keeping a journal, creating poetry or writing short stories/role plays with friends, pen and paper have always been there for me. I found myself in blank pages, and used them to express all the things in me I couldn't get out in any other way. I want to share my stories, my poetry and more with others now, in hopes that it will bring others the same things it gave to me.

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