Come sit in the shade of the poor crying tree.
Come weep with the willow, the willow and me.
Tears here are common and welcome at that;
‘Neath the willow, the willow, where long I have sat.
though they’re not always sad tears they persistently fall;
Like my words in the wind with each line that I call;
Cries for help, cries for sorrow, flat out desolate pleas;
Needing and begging bent on both knees.
Come kneel in the shade of the poor crying tree.
Come beg of the willow, the willow and me.
Beg our forgiveness for the wrongs you have done.
While we suffered, you wagered, our hearts for your fun.
These questions unanswered eat away at my soul;
Condemning to half what one was a whole.
Get out of my sight, get out of my mind.
Leave me and my willow, leave us behind.
Come leave the shade of the poor crying tree.
Say good-bye to the willow, the willow and me.
As its leaves tragically wither, dry up an die;
The wind picks up its speed to carry my sigh.
Would you care to hear? If you heard would you care?
I need you beside me but you can’t be there.
Leave us to give in, give up and fall.
Do away with our memory once and for all.
No more shade can be given by the poor crying tree.
What’s become of the willow, the willow and me.
We left for the winter, the summer and fall.
The tree and I left once and for all;
As we lie in the compost all covered in muck;
Low on our spirits and down on our luck.
You never loved the poor crying tree.
You hated the willow, the willow and me.
May 26, 1992
