The Tree That Knew
Poetry On Speaking Truths
Address unspoken truths- before they fester.
š²šļøāšØļøš³šÆļøš²šš³šļøš²š·ļøš³š«ļøš²š²šļøāšØļøš³šÆļøš²šš³šļøš²š·ļøš³š«ļøš²
Old meek tree that stands
Wind stirring its autumn leaves
Old stories forgotten
š²šļøāšØļøš³šÆļøš²šš³šļøš²š·ļøš³š«ļøš²š²šļøāšØļøš³šÆļøš²šš³šļøš²š·ļøš³š«ļøš²
Stories kept silent
Etched on its frail, wooded bark
Not meant for the open eye.
š²šļøāšØļøš³šÆļøš²šš³šļøš²š·ļøš³š«ļøš²š²šļøāšØļøš³šÆļøš²šš³šļøš²š·ļøš³š«ļøš²
Girl runs from his hands
Boy cries at the too-harsh touch
It screams--- but none hears.
š²šļøāšØļøš³šÆļøš²šš³šļøš²š·ļøš³š«ļøš²š²šļøāšØļøš³šÆļøš²šš³šļøš²š·ļøš³š«ļøš²
Lightning strikes; it speaks
Splits--a hole in its center
Locket, rusted blade
š²šļøāšØļøš³šÆļøš²šš³šļøš²š·ļøš³š«ļøš²š²šļøāšØļøš³šÆļøš²šš³šļøš²š·ļøš³š«ļøš²
It speaks in embers
In the scorched soil, way too late
To be heard.
š²šļøāšØļøš³šÆļøš²šš³šļøš²š·ļøš³š«ļøš²š²šļøāšØļøš³šÆļøš²šš³šļøš²š·ļøš³š«ļøš²
Original poem by Michelle Liew. AI tags are coincidental.
About the Creator
Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin
Hi, i am an English Language teacher cum freelance writer with a taste for pets, prose and poetry. When I'm not writing my heart out, I'm playing with my three dogs, Zorra, Cloudy and Snowball.
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