Father, Who Art Thou?
Andrews, Veronica
I often feel as if I'm a small tree in this universe, vulnerable to even the slightest breeze. My leaves fall like tears. And like those leaves, my tears come back every season. Some branches break as my heart does, from a harsh wind caused by one's hurtful words or hurtful doing. I remain standing bare, feeling and looking undesirable, sad, lonely, cold, and lifeless. Until love shines over me like the sun's warmth coming through the clouds. ...