Sun is shining intense above,
and wind is feeling harsh enough,
but standing alone there facing,
waiting,..that is the old tree.
seasons come and goes,
not a hope it shows,
old and creepled as it being,
holding itself in one piece.
It had seen the days,
with happiness and joy,
with friend around, tree so many,
and birds and rabbits playing.
but then came those one,
using things never been seen,
taking away their friends,
isolating it in a trend.
but there was no choice,
not any thing to rejoice,
for they came in plenty,
making his place empty.
surviving the time of scare,
it lived with someone's care,
but soon broken were his sheath,
for air became difficult to breath.
so time passed in some way,
making it old sooner it may,
and so it stands there alone,
waiting for its end to be gone.
it is there thinking of old time,
wishing the only hope for mankind,
if only they had the patience...
and helped us to help them out..
if only they had heard me...The old tree.
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