I was quite little
But I had always that tiny oak tree planted in the park
Watched it grow taller and taller
As I did
And each season
As the tree changed
In the winter
I touched the snowy leafless branches
In the spring and summer
I saw the bright green leaves covering the once bare branches
And in the fall
I jumped and played in the pile of brown leaves under the tree that now stood bare again
And each day I would climb those branches
Going higher and higher
Until one day
I wasn't allowed near the tree
For it was surrounded by yellow tape and dozens of workers
I tried climbing on the trees that were similar
But it just wasn't the same
So there I sat alone on the small red bench in the park
And the next day I went back
Hoping that the workers would be gone
They were- but so was the tree
I walk over to where it once stood
Bent down
And picked up the last remnants of that tree
A small brown leaf
Held it in my tiny hands
Taking one last look at what was left of my tree
Before the wind carried it away from my grasp
Running as fast as my little legs could carry me
I chase my leaf before I realise that there was no hope
My leaf was gone, and with it my tree
But my memory of it always stayed
