“Every eldest daughter
Was the first lamb to the slaughter
So we all dressed up as wolves and we looked fire”
~Taylor Swift, “Eldest Daughter”
In a forest where giants loom,
A small tree stands in quiet gloom.
Its branches reach for a softer light,
Yet the towering trees block the sight.
“Independent,” they whisper with pride,
Not knowing the heart that aches inside.
Roots seek solace in unshaken earth,
But none see the struggles that measure its worth.
With leaves that tremble in the wind’s embrace,
It finds courage in a crowded place.
Yet beneath the bark, where no one can see,
A longing grows — to just be free.
“Be fine,” they say, “Just hold it together,”
But storms roll in, regardless of the weather.
Invisible wounds, like whispers, persist,
In a world that demands more than it grants — we resist.
Each season of growth brings the weight of the past,
Lessons of strength, yet shadows are cast.
To bloom in silence, an artful disguise,
While inside, it battles feelings hidden from view.
If only the winds would carry a word,
To let them know their pain has been heard.
“Dear little one,” the forest would sigh,
“You are seen, you are felt; it is okay to cry.”
Being a caretaker can wear you so thin,
When asked to be strong, when help feels like sin.
Yet in the embrace of the soft, tender blue,
There’s a strength in connection — you matter too.
So reach for the sky, let your branches unfold,
Allow others in — let your story be told.
In the shadow of giants, let your spirit be free,
For the forest thrives best when it nurtures each tree.
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