The place I came from,
Sprouted from the seed of loved ones.
A sapling breaking the surface of the forest floor.
Growing strong, fast, and with vibrant colors.
Weather scared, but not stunned in growth.
Happiness shines and gives strength.
Roots adjust,
making way to another of his likeness.
Their branches reach out, almost beckoning.
Foliage ruffles,
the trees extenuate their feelings, at a cost.
Though they age the don't mature.
Branches ensnaring one another,
Pushing to stay connected,
in tune.
Cracking.
Breaking.
Nothing.
Branches laying on the forest floor,
No longer consumed by each other.
Maturity develops,
And suddenly I'm not so lonely.