I knew a girl named Willow,
who wept nonstop.
People tried to cheer her up,
but nobody could manage.

She wept o'er lost friends,
cut down long ago.
She wept o'er her leaves,
which always weighed her down.

She drooped,
she sagged.
She hung,
she wept.
My friend Willow,
had never known joy.

I often sat,
beneath her massive self.
Listening to her story,
sung in weeping prose.

Whenever I was sad,
I went to Willow.
She cheered me up,
by singing her song.

No matter how bad,
my life may have seemed.
My weeping willow,
brought joy to my heart.

She sang her song,
and I sang mine.
No matter her troubles,
she would always hear mine.

She never left,
she never departed.
She was always there,
forever solemn.

Now that I,
have grown older.
Life has progressed,
in its natural span.

My weeping Willow,
has slowly been forgotten.
Living on,
I have lost time to see her.

Life has moved on,
and my responsibilities doubled.
I have a new love,
and I have a new life.

A sad day,
I venture back.
Heading to the forest,
to see my Weeping Willow.

As I get back,
something seems wrong.
The forest is brighter,
and there is less clutter.

I get to my Willow,
and tears fill my eyes.
Where Willow once stood,
now stands a tiny stump.

* * *

The best things in life,
are all around you.
Not stopping to appreciate,
may be your biggest regret.