Sequel..chainsaw..my Despair.
MY SOUL VIEWS MY DESICCATED FRAME
NEVER TO BLOSSOM, SPROUT AND BEAR AGAIN
SUCH A WOUND FROM WHICH I CAN NEVER RECOVER
SOON THE UNDERTAKING AGENTS, MY BODY WILL BE ALL OVER
BREAKING ME DOWN AND RETURNING ME TO THE EARTH
I CAN ONLY HOPE OTHERS WILL GET THE CHANCE TO EXPERIENCE BIRTH
MY LIFE IS ENDED
MY WOUND CAN'T BE MENDED
I'M A DEAD TREE
STILL STANDING FOR ALL TO SEE
I STRUGGLED FOR LIFE IN SPITE OF WHAT THEY DID TO ME
THE FUTURE BODES NO GOOD
WE'LL BE CUT DOWN FOR THE VALUE OF OUR WOOD.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
Added by Poetry Lover
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