My Trees, My Leaves
Are they dancing with joy or desperately running?
Are they hanging on for dear life or wanting to let go?
Are they hiding underground or resting?
Is the wind calling them home in the night and they surrender?
What do they know, what makes them surrender?
They are harmless, and yet sometimes suffer, and still share,
Why do we toss them without thought?
No heart, no blood, or do they,
They send their young season after season,
we revel in their children, Take deep breath of their youth,
what do they know?
Why do they ask so little and give so much?
LIFE MUST BE GREAT..................
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