Her soul had been tattered,
Years had gone by.
Most of her dreams shattered,
All in the blink of an eye.
The boots she wore, beaten and battered.
Yes, this person was shy, not spry.
She came to an old tree, tall and thick.
A large branch had been taken by the wind.
It's bark as rigid as a brick,
Even with a knife, it couldn't be skinned.
This had been her climbing wall
Or perhaps a great mountain peak.
The house next to it was her great hall,
She wanted to repair the damage nature had wreaked.
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A/N: Sorry I'm a bit late on the update, it's been a busy week! Have a nice day! - link_sky
YOU ARE READING
Personal Poetry
ŞiirThis is just a book of poetry I wrote. I own all of them (unless the whole poem is in quotes, I may put a poem in there that made me inspired to write) If you can help me improve it, that would be helpful. :) I'll try to update once a week, sorry if...
