Just a small imprint,
Then a little dent-
Now a tiny hole.
Unattended to, the little tree
In the midst of all the happy pole like figures.
A stain now lay in it's chest.
A very noticeable stain.
Many watched the little one,
Tuck tail, bowing it's head.

Obscenity was all the little one knew,
One so raw and impure-
For no good came to it yet.
The only good done,
Came from tucking tail-
And remaining quiet whilst blasphemous words,
Began to wave inelegantly graceful.
A plant so rare should be kissed and hugged,
Instead of cursed at and shunned.

Now beams of light-
Grazed it's leaves,
And posture was suddenly made.
For the rays gave a new-found hope-
That it will not forever rain.