My one stick willow tree,
Ask why I left you on three.
I count the time I forgive,
Lost the pieces I never receive.
My one stick willow tree,
I loved you dearly.
It wasn’t enough, you see.
Too late, too carefree.
My one stick willow tree,
Full of anger, full of emptiness.
Your eyes filled with quilt,
Your blood tastes like guilt.
The love I once asked,
Inhaled in smoke and vodka.
I still feel the empty shell of what it could be.
Goodbye, good night, my willow tree.