OhsnapItsMchle

One more balloon's been added to the tree. Oh, I can feel its fiery red, Ready to stretch its skin and Burst. Fifteen years - the tree's grown old, weary, Tired. Her dead arms fall heavy. Her feet planted into the ground. She awaits, dreadfully, every year for A new balloon has grown. A year more of overwhelming days. The balloons cling on to her. None of them will leave. It will stay with her Until the day she dies.