Poetry and Lamentations

The double faced ivy

As a pine I once stood tall and stern,
my fruit was ever that shade of green.
I believed in my talents. I was firm.
My joy was unlimited, it never waned.
I was young, naive when my fate came.
Cruel ivy crept over the snow towards me,
little did I know this would cause the pain.
I trusted it without second thought.
My talent shone. My fruit was never dead.
The time came for man to enter the thick forest.
On a deceitful path was I blindly led,
told to follow orders and await the winds of fate.
I trusted this ivy. Trusted with all my heart.
She was a friend who I respected and honoured.
I had no knowledge she could play such a devious part,
her words are what broke me to this day.
Her words like a sharp knife stabbing through my bark!
Cutting their agony into my writhing mind.
To me now, winter seems harsh, cold and ever stark,
never again will I trust that double faced ivy.