The Weeping Willow

The weeping Willow was a charge of its own 

Till the crying man found some shade

And the dancing leaves and their joyful babbles

Became the sorrows he so sullenly made

And the tree was pulled down in grief

Or at least from the view of the man

Two sad souls, to comfort each other

Till his grief had reached its span

When drier eyes could see the giant

And fascinated to project

That sadness had left his dehydrated part

Down the branches as tears collect

That mimicking Willow with drooping leaves

Perceived it’s newfound state

That what once was liquid dancing arms

Was a symbol of sorrowful weight