Amid the cloudless blue sky
And the last of the green grass
A wrinkled tree trunk lies lone and bold.
It lived through a many a
Sunrise and a sunset.
Grew green leaves and dropped its yellowed leaves
Bloomed flowers, bore fruit
Witnessed births, witnessed deaths
Was a shelter, Was a home.
This wrinkled tree trunk lies no more
For the men axed it rot
Pulled it from the root.
There will be no more trees in this land of mine
But a concrete landscape; an eyesore to all.
Jan 9, 2022
Jan 9, 2022 at 7:00 PM UTC
Amid the cloudless blue sky
And the last of the green grass
A wrinkled tree trunk lies lone and bold.
It lived through a many a
Sunrise and a sunset.
Grew green leaves and dropped its yellowed leaves
Bloomed flowers, bore fruit
Witnessed births, witnessed deaths
Was a shelter, Was a home.
This wrinkled tree trunk lies no more
For the men axed it rot
Pulled it from the root.
There will be no more trees in this land of mine
But a concrete landscape; an eyesore to all.
