I am strong, like a tree.
My roots are firmly planted in the Earth.
The wind can shake me, but I will not fall.
The lighting can burn me, but I will not crumble.
But, sometimes trees become weak.
There is no longer enough water to sustain me.
The dirt is falling beneath me.
My leaves are flowing away in the wind.
What good is a weak barren tree?
What good am I to you?
What good are you to me?
Will my fall be an impact that shakes the ground?
Or will nobody hear me?
Do you hear me now?
A tree cannot roar.
A tree cannot fight.
A tree only has a simple life.
I am falling and I know you see me.
You have run your fingers through my quick-sand before.
I'm no longer able to hold onto the rocks that kept me tall.
I am falling and I see you watching.
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