She gives her breath to make life in the air Trees envy the power only they sought to hold I watch as she scorches and yells And through her eyes, I can almost see a drought What she has squeezed from her own toil Is resting unused in my soul What have I given her back, she questions Yet I know I didn’t ask for this responsibility She suffers without the pain of approval I birth to follow in the amenities of pain I gift my new presents what I was once given They follow in our cycle of remorse
Short story bites for a casual awakening