The story of a girl that is devestated when the woods she grew up with are cut down.
|“Just Like Weeds ”
High giants soaring above the sky singing songs of life. It’s a serial sight stretching far and wide. A dance you see just the tree's and me. As the leaves pour down and the clouds turn round I am the tree's and the tree's are me.
But the sight has changed, and white X's of greed now paint the scene. I listen for the tree's to sing knowing it alone can comfort me, I listen and pray wishing just one could sway. Drop your gaze and you can see the remains of my beloved tree's. Blistered and broken they lay, how strong they once were, now but a blur. How someone could do this I cannot say. No song, but the anthem of death is what I hear, no sign of life from front to rear. Mama tugs on my hand, her bronze face now the color of desert sand.
So tell me now, how to blow away a dark cloud. People it seems, are just like weeds. We grow and soon spread with but one need- a simple need founded on greed. Humans destroy what was once a marvel, they shame its beautiful name. A flood you could say, only meant for natures existence to wash away. But I still believe that the tree's will sing. What is a person who lusts for power? What is a person who cannot appreciate the magnificence of a flower?
Where is my hero? Where is the light at the end of the tunnel? I feel blinded, blinded by death and sorrow. I can feel their pain, it echo’s through the thundering rain. The ground is painted, stained really, stained with the color of hate. Tears threaten to spill from my brown eyes, but I cannot let them, I want to cry for the tree’s. I know I should but I am afraid, if I cry does that mean they will never again touch the sky?
Silly some would say, that I could care so much for a tree, but they simply cannot see. That life is not only about one mans power needs. I’m falling, I hit the ground hard, it hurts, but not as much as they do. Dear tree’s will you ever sing with me?