The Tree
Here I lay
Under the tree
It is on the hill
I sit here everyday
Pondering aloud
Why can't the meaning of my life be found?
I read books
I draw
Little of the leaves left fall
The boys run by, playing ball
The girls are their, skipping rope
Soon the sun begins to set
The children go home
To their parents and pets
Though I stay
I stay with the left behind
The balls and ropes
I pick up rocks
Throw them down
I pick up one of the toys
Then I look up
The branches are strong
Though the tree is dead
And now so am I
YOU ARE READING
The Road Up: Somewhat Of A Poem Book
Poetry*WARNING* This book includes dark themes and events that are happening around the world. You have been warned. Written and Illustrated by Kawaii_Potterhead
