Fragile
Warped with age and creaky and bumpy
And menacing to scare away the birds
that try to make a home with her
But also aching like a tree in the wind
Stretching knuckled fingers out
to keep from being pushed around
She is more the hardened oak with the soft skeleton
of the moss coated willow
A weeping inside trying to hold out against a prideful shell
that will soon become barren
and the whole tree will fall
A victim of her dignified outside
whose roots were ripped out
too heavy for what dwelled lurking underneath
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