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The Nativity Tree
Can’t mask the pain of being ashamed of my body and frame,
Slain by the words that my friend has gained with the glances of false hope in those eyes…
Do they really want my demise?
Even though I have heard the cries of those begging to be free; like me?
One day to be within the trinity.
Maybe I’m the epitome of a living tree?
Pulling roots into your psyche,
some days, you play and tug at my heart stings like harpist in a grand symphony.
You say, “You just want me to be happy.”
Then why do I feel as if you have me on hand and knee?
Chiseling at the stone that was once called my identity.
Axes of raw emotion rock my foundation; thoughts of frustration enter my core.
Like a roar from the ocean floor.
I don’t know if I can take it anymore.
Feeling the breeze puts me at ease
knowing there is life on a distance shore.





Masked_Ven
Community Member
Masked_Ven
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