Written by Emily Harstone | January 26, 2017
She decided to give it up.
Where the hell is the pot?
Nature is fragile, handle with care.
Withered away in my hands asleep
Yes, I will outlive you all!
Within that fragile sapling, hope grew.
excellent
I survived by grasping my roots.
And the Tree gods were pleased.
Sometimes our roots keep us sane
In his hands, the future. Safe.
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She decided to give it up.
Where the hell is the pot?
Nature is fragile, handle with care.
Withered away in my hands asleep
Yes, I will outlive you all!
Within that fragile sapling, hope grew.
excellent
I survived by grasping my roots.
And the Tree gods were pleased.
Sometimes our roots keep us sane
In his hands, the future. Safe.