The Sycamore Tree

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Contently Deranged Travelers
Just remembering my old house and the tree I used to climb when I was younger

Submitted: July 02, 2016

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Submitted: July 02, 2016

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The Sycamore Tree-

I grew up with it,

It grew up with me

It was just a tree

But now it means so much more to me

Whenever I was bored,

Needed to get away,

Or blow off steam;

It was right there waiting for me.

It stood with me through the seasons

I thought I might miss it but never this much

It brought me comfort when I was sad-

A private place of solitude.

I'd climb it and sit there for hours it seemed;

Sit there thinking,

Or caught up in a dream.

I'd give anything to give it a hug

Or climb it one last time.

It may sound strange but I miss it like a person,

Like a friend or someone I use to love

It held me when I was sad,

Gave me something to kick when I was mad

I carved my initials and said goodbye before we left,

I'm happy I'll always be a part of it

It was always there for me

I'd look out my window and it would be there

I miss that tree of sycamore;

I miss swinging on its branch,

Resting my head on it,

The smell of blackberries in the wind,

The bark and the grass

When it rained the drops fell off the leaves,

It cried with me

Back then it was just a tree

But lately it’s really grown on me

 

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