America is a tree,

It starts out small and weak and gradually grows to be stronger

It  is planted around many others 

All surrounded in different colors

 

America is a tree,

Colored in diversity and leaves of different sorts.

It grows big and strong and never falls short.

Eventually all the leaves fall off

And the colors start to fade

Until they are picked up again and they happily parade.

 

America is a tree,

That slowly falls apart

When it dies 

I hide my eyes

Because its touched my heart.

But soon enough a new one grows

And it bellows in the breeze

America is beautiful 

It’s the land of the free.

 

But then I see a different side

A side not commonly seen

The viciously war torn leaves

That lay between you and me.

 

They blow right past our feet 

As softly as a sheet 

And gently fade away 

To a stronger yesterday

America is a tree

Because it stands strong in the wind

The leaves that blow speak brave untold stories

 

Theses leaves have gone through many things 

Through wars and through battles 

But if America is a tree inside, 

None of this should matter. 

 

If America is a tree inside, 

it will always come back to life.