Twas the breakage of a haunting terror, living in the tree.
Around it, appears to be centuries of children's voices wanting to be free.
What has become of the world ...
When all they do is hurt...
These trees only take in the weak ones.
The children that never had any fun.
The ones that suffered in silence and were heading into a world of nowhere.
Children that were abandoned without any care.
Children that were dropped off at shelter homes
Or left alone...
Children that were starving
And left on the street to be harmed.
Children with no love
These are the ones that the tree wants
The ones the tree haunts..
Sacrificed by their own blood relatives, shows how much they care.
There was never love just another human to share.
These trees feed off the burdens of a child.
These trees stand tall, strong and wild.
This is gonna be my new series of poems
Part one...
©terrylin53
T