As the acorn sprouts, first first breath of life is inhaled.
Life? Life?
It feels more like it’s been jailed…
Nowhere to go
Nothing to see
Except old Mary, through the window beaming with Glee.
After years of growing, strong and heavy this tree has become.
“How beautiful” she cries
"How dumb" says a boy
"We should cut it down" says another
"It ruins the aesthetic of our neighborhood"
The tree has done nothing
Yet people have come to hate it
Soon it will be dead
And nothing will have mattered
Aren’t we all just trees?