Me, The Tree

The trees whisper to me on windy days,
Trying to see what are all of their flaws.
Every word begins to cloud the bright rays
As their thoughts break down optimistic laws.

In despair, entreating lies in my path;
Only then will all the doubt be cast out.
Words spill out of my mouth, explaining wrath,
Their flaws nothing but some different route.

Change what they believes and all turns so bright
Shining like a nearby star, quite flawless.
There's simply no reason for such a plight:
Tall, strong, deep, resistant, open, and guess!

I am the trees just as the trees are me
Completely flawless as we both now see.

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