Day after day
Late mornings
to midday tears
and late nights fears
nothing has changed.
The tree remains a whithered sapling.
It has been so long...
Why will you not grow?
When will you rise far above the dirt that chokes you?
When will you be green again,
When will you be happy again?
When will you bloom and bear the good fruit
that is good to eat?
WHEN WILL YOU BE A TREE?!

So it has come to this.
Have I gotten so lost?
Have I gone mad?
It's a tree.
I am talking to a tree.

You cannot tell a tree when to grow.
You cannot ask a tree questions
and expect answers.

A tree does not speak,
and it does not comprehend
my language.