there was a forest
and now there's not
just me to the wind exposed
would that it were that i was hardy
but that is hardly so
wood though i am
i am so for naught and not of use
barren trunk and twisted boughs
foliage thinning
like an old man's hair
oh how nature's had its way with me
i will never be a beam to hold
a roof above your head
or many printed pages
painting stories on your imagination
a rocking chair with rest for the weary
or sleep for little ones
or a guitar to cradle
when all your words have failed your heart
i am the last tree standing
and still pretending
that some charlie brown
will dress me in a suitable ornament
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