Passed by every day, you stand alone,
No one giving a damn about your tiny existence.
Surrounded by those smaller than you,
They stay together and leave you behind.
Like a king, you tower above all else around you,
Stripped of your clothing in this Winter air.
In summer you are reclothed and you bloom,
Your arms reaching in every possible direction.
You grab at everything around you, all that is near,
But it's all just beyond your grasp.
You stand and see all that happens,
But no one looks up at you or realizes you're there.
You could live on strong, or fade and die away,
And no one would notice you're gone.
You live a sad life, invisible to all around you,
Even to your Mother herself.
Poor tree.
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