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Weeping Willow
Under its canopy
It's feeling despair
Under its canopy
It wishes it was there
Playing with the others
Talking with the Sun
Being social
Seeing things
But underneath its canopy
It's cut off from the world
In its little room
Alone, quietly
But what it doesn't know
All the others wish they could be it
With its flowing canopy
Full of serenity
Peaceful like a breeze
Sleeping, listening, being beautiful
It knows the others are there
Talking with each other
But can't talk to it
Maybe they hate me
Maybe they think I'm dumb
Maybe they would talk to me
If I had a voice
But I haven't talked in so long
I don't know if I can
Underneath my canopy
I felt so alone
I've stopped talking,
Sharing things with anyone
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This piece is about what it might feel like to be an old Weeping Willow.