H.+Extended+Metaphor+Poem

My bark protects my gentle inner soul. I have grown strong and bold, not wavered by others stronger then I.   The sun, the rain, the earth, and the wind. The seasons change, and all is not the same. Peaceful weather turns and all goes cold. The winds temper turns and I feel its wrath. My bark is torn from my grasp, and roots pulled from the ground. The storm passes and the wind calms. My bark is torn and I am fragile. The Sun and the peaceful rain rush to my side and the Earth that is strong and intact. They help me grow and rebuild my broken shell, it becomes stronger then the last. The wind can no longer move me; no longer can my gentle core be harmed. I No longer trust the wind, the sun and the earth and the peaceful rain are always at my side.