There are times

when you are a tree.

You start so Pretty;

Leaves all anew.

Your colors are everywhere.

Your beauty is something

to behold.

But then storms come

and tear away your leaves.

The leaves that everyone loved,

and everyone wanted.

Without them, You look ugly.

Where people once saw beautiful colors,

They see branches and twigs

twisting this way and that,

showing your bark beneath.

You begin to realize,

Everyone just likes you

for the colors on your leaves.

And when they see you don't have them,

They leave you.

All except one.

He see's your bareness.

And yet 

He

Still

calls you Beautiful.