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Life Is but a Tree
Life Is But A Tree
The young spindly sapling bursting through the earth
reaching for the sky, washed by the rain
warmed by the sun way up high.
Branches of emotions bent by the breeze,
pulling and pushing where ever they please.
The wind of change always blows cold,
shifting the dust impossible to hold.
The tree grows tall, big and strong,
holding their buds while the birds sing their song.
Leaves of happiness sprout in spring,
new life unfolds with the promises they bring.
Boughs of uncertainty tipping the dew,
highlighting promises as they push through.
The seasons shift, branches creak,
the rain hides the tears,
while the leaves turn brown as they weep.
Stripped bare of foliage the trees look so grey,
memories of life in the wind blown away,
the tree unloved stands alone,
icy fingers turning to bone.
Branches fall in the autumn mist,
going back to the ground,
where they were first kissed.