Tree
It cant wait to grow
It wants to know the sky
It offers itself to those who are in need of time passing by
It stands against time and wind's hasten voice
Its choice is rooted and stable
Its shield limits the sun's able
It may bear that which we hunger
It may become that which we wonder
In time it will see more standing still than all the traveling that we ever will
A tree should be envied but is not
It is percieved to be little when in fact it sees alot
Copyright © Milton Batchelor | Year Posted 2024
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