I am a tree.
I am a source of life.
I stretch my arms far enough to provide shade for the tired.
I use by body and energy from the sun to give birth to my children
So that I may provide food for the hungry.
I am a pheonix.
But instead of fire, I use the seasons
For my transformation and rebirth
As I let my clothes shed off during the harsh winter
And come back to life through the pouring water of Spring
And the growing period of Summer
I am fearful
Of those who walk the earth
And try to destroy my family within this forest
I am dying
By the hands and sweat of the "others"
The ones who have killed my brothers and sisters
And have not given back life to me as I have for them
I am a tree.
Help me for I am being murdered
By the harsh blows of mankind!
The harsh blows of the axe running through my trunk
A trunk that was once a home to my fellow neighboring creatures within the forest
Help.
I am dying.
I am losing my might to live.
I warn my brothers and sisters who are still breathing
For this forest is no longer home
But the destruction of real life.
I am a tree.
I am dead.
There you have it. This is an original poem by yours truly. Please leave your constructive criticism below and tell me your thoughts. Anything I should improve on? Thankyou.
