The Tree That Grew Tired

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This poem reflects those moments where you feel almost enough, but not quite. Where your heart is full, but your presence feels unseen. It’s about the in-between, the dusk , not quite day but not quite night and how often we exist there.

It’s for the times you show up sparkling, even when you feel like static.
Not broken, just… blurry. Not fading, just filtered.
It's a quiet nod to those who feel too much in a world that asks them to feel less.
If you’ve ever been the background while others take the spotlight, this one’s for you.

Painted & Written by me!

The  Tree  That  Grew  Tired...

I painted a tree in a sea of blue,

With roots that float like I tend to do.

It stands so tall in a world so wide,

But no one asks what it hides inside.


They see the red and say it's bright,

But red can burn and bleed and bite.

Not every bloom means life's okay 

Some petals grow from walking away.


I laugh too loud so no one knows,

How often silence softly grows.

I stay and shine where I don’t belong,

Like I’m the dusk when they want dawn.


Some days I’m loud, some days I’m low,

Caught in the swing of “I don’t know.”

I look okay, so no one sees

The weight I carry just to please.


So if you’ve ever felt off-key,

Half on the land and half in the sea.

Know that this painting and maybe even me,

Are more than just what you first see.


Some days I’m wise, some days I just scroll,
Half philosopher, half meme account soul,
Call it chaos, I call it character.

Fueled by flaws, full moons and figuring it out.

~The Doodling Bard


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