if life were really a tree,
mine would be cold,
dead from the frost

the leaves would have fallen
no hint of gold left on there surface
no love
no care

for this tree stands shorter than the rest
its breaths short
quivering in the silent wind

the trunk shrivels,
its bark turned grey
ashy remains through fire

it has burnt its unending river
of scarlet as its trunk is sliced to pieces

all you do is stand and watch
you watch them tear the tree apart
its beauty being lost each second that ticks by

If life were really a tree
you,

are my Tree Surgeon.