Growth

Growth

 

A little sprout under the soil

Some sun, but not too much to boil

Under the shade from your protector

The big tree as you mother

A harsh season comes, with you wanting cover

Can we escape this cold?

Some may never know.

Winter can give you the sense of not seeing the unknown.

Stuck in the white death of snow.

Written By Braeden Zeitler

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
Me

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