the tree stood still and alone.
alone and standing still the tree creaked and moaned with every dying breath it took.
one day soon I will cut down the tree that stands still and alone.
I will cut it up into pieces for your fire, so at night you are kept warm.
you will enjoy the warmth coming from the burning tree, but never the warmth of me.
it will take me a whole day to chop it down and I will work tediously but you will not thank me.
instead you will ask me to pour you a cup of tea.
and I will, I will make it with love, and watch as you drink it with hate.
together we will watch the tree turn black in our fire place, you being glad for the tree me being glad for you.
im jealous of that tree, it gets to feel your admiring eyes whilst all I get from you is coldness.
I should probably remind myself to take pleasure in chopping it down.