the gift by: orange
I’ve been called worthless, no purpose, would be better off six feet under the dirt…sssh
The truth is, my self worth was worth less than that dirt, and I had put myself below the earth
Then she came along and dragged me up from the ground, saying “you’re not lost, just waiting to be found.”
My love for her, the only time its ever been true, was what kept me alive,
The only reason this poem is even in front of you.
As all stories of true love see fit, my heart shattered when I realized there was no worth in it.
Friends only, never lovers, and so I took my broken heart and placed it where I thought was
The best place for worthless things to be, right there in the dirt where she found me.
I felt bad, so I toiled all that wretched soil into a place where things of worth can grow productively.
And wouldn’t you know it, my heart that I had cast out as debris
Had healed and grown into my own personal tree.
Never the same love will I ever have again, but still,
The fruit of this tree I share freely with my friends.
A simple kindness saved me, but from that moment has come many others
and I say to all of you, that I am here when needed to be, for I am your loyal brother.
This purpose I know have is simple and true, I pass out kindness from her tree,
In the hope that it will helps you,
To start a garden of your own, so you can help another,
And pass it on forever, until the whole world has recovered.
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