I feel like an old oak tree,
That no one can climb.
As my branches are too fragile,
As you get up so high.
I feel oh so hollow,
Still Ill let no one inside.
I disguise my rotten core,
With my thick, strong hide.
I stick out like a sore thumb,
But there no need for a hospital.
As my wounds make me weak,
And Ill never show pain at all.
As too be a strong oak,
You can’t let yourself tumble.
So if I let someone in,
I might just crumble.