Sometimes it hurts

Knowing that the trees don’t understand me

They just sway along with the wind

Sometimes I envy

The wind as it whips across the sky

Craving its face into the stone

I’m not the trees

Or the wind

For I am like the water

Because the water knows

What it is like to be battered

To and for

To be pushed and pulled

And out of place

Until i finally find my face

In a clear, crystal lake

I see my face

As I’ve found it now

Covered in scars

Yet it don’t mind

For the water understands

The water washed away my scars

With gentil, caring hands

——-

I’m just trying to get back into the habit of writing often. I’ve honestly got no idea what’s going on with this rthyme scheme or set up, but meh, it goes with the prompt.❤️