deep azure lies heavy and with burden over us
You must login to vote
the mere hint of wind is broken by branches
hiding the disfigured truth beneath it's limbs
the gnarled thick trunk of the oak.
caresses itself with the long grace of Willow
grass and other plants know it's hidden truth
they grow in it's shadow losing sunlight
never able to grow as tall as the Willow
who's branches sweep over cutting new growth.
But thick, ugly, oak you have made a mistake!
you have tried to cover so many with dark
that your roots are easy to see beneath
coming from dark, rank soil they lift
blistering knolls of growth sweep up.
Your secret is now known, you are dark,
twisted, veiled under deceit as you step
lie after lie over everyone beneath you
twisting the world to your own bitter end.
Ask not what you can do to poetry, but what poetry can do to you.