I can taste the breeze
As i feel the essence
And sweet scents
Of other trees
They speak to me
With a myriad tongues
Ancient underground roots
Of a varied view
All sweep the skies
Of an azure blue
Here i stand
The gnarly old me
I am a friendly gregarious
Funny looking tree
Oft in the shape of a pyramid
My arms reaching out
Across the undulating landscape
As i view entities
With a critical eye
Carrying razor teeth
Distant friends, soon to die
as their sap like blood
Bleeds dry
And their corpses
Upon the land, will lie
Victims of the human disease
No more chainsaws

by Jemia
Written by missjem56 (Jemia de Blondeville)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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