Cutting Trees: A Poem


Cutting down trees

That have no roots

They only block out the sun

And bear ugly fruits

Their branches twist and wind

Til confusion is spun

And stifle the dreams before they’ve begun

But wielding my ax

My arms swing away

Blasting through trunks

And splinters that spray

I’ll take the little wounds

Such a tiny price to pay

To grasp hold of the light

And seize my new day

Cutting down trees



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