Somewhere, there stands a tree
In the midst of a forest
Alone, there it has grown,
With not another from its own mother,
The rest grew old and are ‘gone’
Now at an age of three
And not before the end of its time,
An axe will cross the stem
And have its best, the wood of the pine
This innocent tree
Would it have known
Would have run for its life,
Forever to be free!
Originally posted 2019-01-21 07:08:16.