I stand beneath the rotted cherry tree,
Its branches barren and weak,
A reminder of all that was lost,
Of all the sweet cherries that once bloomed.

This tree was once a symbol of life,
Of love and happiness,
But now it stands, a hollow shell,
A testament to all that has passed.

The sweet scent of the cherries that once were,
Is now replaced by a smell of decay,
A constant reminder of the past.