I am too nice,
My strongest point makes me the weakest,
Regardless of my height, being too kind is where the peak ends
I don't mean by being respectful is where I've lost the fight
The scraps and bruises come from those beneath my mighty branches, those who keep taking chances
The one I constantly provide for, the one that see my bark as supplies, my shade as protection, my time as what I only provide

And I'm way too nice,
She knows all my secrets, how to pick at my wounds
How to get me to leak information, how to deepen past feuds
With more ammunition that I never planed for because I am not the type to protrude and push someone down when their lost or confused
See there's a big difference between helping someone who actually needs it,
And someone taking advantage of the help you give

It's hard to see the difference,
Like a misspelled word in the dictionary
Is that truth or fiction?
Is is reality or a depiction of what is being preconceived..
Those are thoughts I now think about as the text is being received
Her words and phone calls I can't tell why I feel so relieved
When I speak to her, even if I am being deceived.