Tree, Part 1
If I was a tree, the one you saw and chose as your own,
You must take of me something, anything.
.
Take the bark, it came off in your hands in an afternoon,
When the sun shone and made your head daze,
Eyes still as your mind was lost and your hands wandered,
Not intrigued, not bored,
And you decided, with bright eyes remembering words,
From your books,
And you hung that little thing around your neck,
With rope you stole from your mother's cupboard.
.
Take a branch, broken from a rampaging beast,
Hanging by a sliver that you cut,
And try to carve it into the person that stands gracefully,
Hiding the wild fire in her,
Who you see in the notes of your grandmother's diaries,
And the tears that speck her father's pages,
Then keep that rough trinket in your pouch,
Never out of reach.
.
Cut me down,
Hear the beauty in my fall, love my death,
Make me into the grave of your enemies,
Build me into a fire that consumes your hatred,
Lets you love again.
-Lusar Kagutsuchi Loyard for Rozaria Elenor
Your daughter doesn't like men, sir (fic)
Verbal
Two part poem, part 1