Live and Breathe

Sometime, long ago there was a tree

In which it had leaves

Where it would hang about in the breeze

And enjoy the sun that was guaranteed

 

Then a cloud came and blocked the light

It wouldn't budge and wouldn't disappear

This made the world black and white

The leaves did fall and the end seemed near

 

The tree, bare of leaves

Still a beautiful sight to see 

Where the dark became thieves

This tree is me, and I still live and breathe

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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