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.