There once was a tree that was bathed in golden light.
Everyone saw it looked so wonderful and bright.
To others, the tree was cheerful and merry, as it’s always been.
But of course, that’s not how it felt within.
She looked down and saw fat, cracked, ugly roots.
Though trying their best she met with abuse.
Her hatred for them built her anxiety and fright.
But still, her torment and abuse grew every night.

Fixing these flaws were the tree’s main focus,
Trying to erase them so aggressively others started to notice.
This sends her into a panic; her image starts to crumble.
Deep inside she feels a familiar rumble.
The golden light that occasionally filtered in,
Used to be enough to stop her from committing this terrible sin.
Not this time; she has no more fight.
The golden light can no longer save me from taking flight.

Her image is gone, so it’s just her and her roots.
She meets a man who promises no more abuse.
He promises freedom and perfection like he’s sent from above.
Promising to cut the wings from the dove.
She abandons the golden light and relents to the sin.
Then she splits from the roots that tried so hard to hold her in.

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