I’ve always wanted a tree in my backyard,
Its many branches all intricately connected.
Just like us a point comes in which they stop growing taller
But they still age.
They weaken overtime.
Their rough edges are carved memories that tell a story to the rest of the world.
During the spring their leaves reach out craving a connection
During the winter alone they stand awaiting for a caress of warmth.
When people can accompany them on their lonely days.
They serve as the perfect hiding place.
Their love so infinite that it lets us keep living.
Even if people leave and forget about them,
Even if communities are oblivious to the hurt that they portray,
Even when the world appreciates technology more than nature.
The trees will stand tall waiting for something,
To serve a purpose to.