Weeping willow, that is me. Do you think I have no feelings, just because Iam a tree? How you used sit besided me, when I offered you shade. How you would take in the sweet brezze, when the wind would blow and my branches swayed. You would say how beautiful I was, with my leaves of green, while upon my trunk, for rest you would lean.

Where have you gone now, that winter has set in? How long it has, since by me you had been.

Now that my brenches are bare and the weather, less fair. Of me, you seem to no longer care. I miss the company, that you would bring my way. You walk by and say, I will come back, on a fairer day.

It is too cold, to sit under you. Your branches are no longer green and your leaves are few, to offer me protection from the hot days sun. I will return, when the winter is done.

So, you only come around when your in need and the weather fair? What happend to my friend, that I thought would always be there? On only sunny days, do you offer me a care?

I stand alone and think is this always how it will be so. A fair weather friend, is of you all I will know?

Then I weep, because I wanted you to be so much more.