The tree is dead there is no more

galesmind

weeping willow

Without tending love like a tree
will wither and die
Mourning does no good when it is gone
Crying does not water a dying love
It crusts it over with salty tears.

Weeping down in sadness
It finally cracks and breaks
There is no turning back
No putting it together.
There is no glue that
will fix a broken heart.

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