Their hair blowing in the wind.
Their arms dancing to the melodies.
Their feet planted to the ground.
Their friends visiting and talking gossip.
Their senses going blank and unreadable.
Their thoughts carrying the heaviest loads.
Their legs wanting to run, skip.
Their hands breaking, twisting, crunching.
Their scars bringing surprise to others.
Their wounds being left in darkness.
Their hope fading, yet calling out.
Their existance being forgotten, left alone.
Their hearts cannot take the stabs.

I realize I am a tree.