Updated: Oct 22, 2019
I’ve left everything up to you.
You twist me until I bend
Like that birch tree outside,
With its bark stripping away with each burst of wind
And just when I think I’ll break,
You smooth me out until I am limber;
Ready for round two or three, or maybe even four—
But this time,
I can’t snap back like I used to.
My leaves don’t bloom like they used to;
There’s no yellow or orange to brighten us up,
No one knows;
You’re the reason my leaves fall off,
The cold wind just blows them away.