poem I wrote as a senior in high school. I found it the other day while sorting through some papers and I decided to edit it and post it here... so here it goes:Mother Tree
Its a knotty tree,
grown old with years.
Evidence of children linger still,
scars in every nook and cranny,
each with their own secret story.
That tree, my tree, is a friend.
She bears my sorrows still,
as if she were a loving mother,
branches intertwine to hold me
and make petty worries disappear.
