Heart de Stone Part VII

 

HEART de STONE PART VII

 By

Anthonystjoseph

     This wasn’t a dream it was during the clean.

     Well she’s laid to rest and the way it happened was best.  Her friends they stare, some of them want to say, ‘did you even care’.  Yes I cared, but I had to save me.  I was the one who fell from that tree. 

     The tree was damaged before I arrived.  The tree couldn’t handle its troubled life.  It did the best that it could, as all of us should.  The one thing I know, the one thing that mattered.  The tree and her soul were a little bit shattered.  Once the tree said to me, “It’s the drama that counts, a tree without drama would not be worth the mount”.  I at the time thought the drama too much, but now near the end I understand as such.

     I’m cleaning the yard where the tree once grew, taking over the cleaning and making it better than new.  While digging in the yard I found a few treasures, quite small they would seem but they once gave me pleasures.  It’s the last time I’ll see that yard of drama, and this statement is true about the tree called my mama.  Instead of thinking of me and thinking about what I did, think of yourself and what would make you rid.  I did what I did and I done what I done because I was the one who lived under that gun.

     Was it a tree, or was it a gun?  The truth of the matter is I rarely had fun.  The tree gave me life and the gun often fired, after all of the years of the gun I grew tired. 

     I am not mad at the tree and the tree has moved on.  I have found that the life living under the gun has made me one of the stronger ones.  Do you love the tree?  Do you thank the bullets?  For the gift of the bullets from the tree is endurance.  It is said many times and by many others, I’ll say it again with a very true reason, “Thank you for making me stronger”.

By

Anthonystjoseph

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