And The Tree Still Stands


A lone old tree with the absence of green
Stands mourning in front of me.

It thinks back to the time of summer's final breath
When both of our happiness had found an untimely death.
A color of luxury, yet it's dead as gone,
Such a shade that lacks from the leaves I sit upon.

I lay under the tree and wait,
Hoping for something more:
If summer ends,
Then what's all of it for?

I wish it all could stop
And I could live forever in this season,
But living only for the past,
is like living without reason.

I sit and watch some more
Of the tree's leaves taking their final descent.
I finally smile.

I'll miss what once was,
Yet I'm now hopeful for what will be.
As I have finally started to see the beauty,
in this empty, barren tree.

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