On a lonely road
stands a lonely tree
all gnarly and dead.
Gone are the leaves
Gone is the shade
that it made for my head
It lived it's life
on the side of a road
only to die
alone in the sun
and there it stood
as a monument of death
if ever a tear has been shed
by anyone that had passed it by
someone that could remember
how it cooled them from the sun in the sky
but no, the old did not care
and the young
with no life in their souls
chose to shame the old tree
with dirty old shoes
that cling to it's branches
like an ugly old leach
leaving their stench
to hang in the air
and leave the old tree
in utter despair

No comments:

Post a Comment