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.