Even though
The wind may blow us apart at times,
But like trees,
We never seem to move away.
Just our leaves
Will bristle through
And flow with the wind,
I think u know what I mean.
Even when times I hate you
With passion (Only sometimes)
But that’s only because I love you (Sometimes.)
And I think you know what I mean
Because you have to
In someway
Feel the same.
Like trees,
It’s not like we can move
Or so we chose not to
Without even thinking about it.
Not that we don’t want to.
At least I don’t
And I know you don’t either.
I think u know what I mean.
It is too late to now part,
But you can always go with the smaller tree to your right
And I can go with the taller tree to my left
But with your roots wrapped around mine
I wouldn’t want u to let me go either,
And I think you know what I mean.
This isn’t a hippie note from yours truly,
Miss Little Cream Soda
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem