Four+Skinny+Trees

They are the only ones who I envy. I am the only one who feels sorrow for them. Strong and holding onto something important, like me. Here to stay but will no longer stay. Born from the trees themselves. Dead and worthless, causing more pain for our spines.

Old but still ever so strong. Grasping on for dear life, their life. Begging for the painful process to start. Waiting for their time but not letting go. Holding and pleading.

They enjoy pretending, to be strong and to hang on, but really want to fall. Falling down, breaking it‘s body. In return for what?

Holding and pleading, teaching me the lesson to hang on even when I‘m too tired to. When I am a slow sloth on a rainy day, I glare at the leaves and stop my complaining. They in pain, their entire life. Born to live, born to stay, born to die. Trees and leaves with the saddest lives.