I am a tall 500 year old oak tree who stands tall and strong.
How life has pass with me here.
The wind blowing my leaves to the ground as softly hurted my ears.
Kids walking pass me not caring that I exist.
Someone to remember me as someone who lived for years.
I am a tall 500 year old oak tree who stands tall and strong.
The people around not listening to what I'm thinking.
My hope to be an odd oak tree.
My heart with my branch as the tree barks came to fall.
Passionate, keeping the years that I am brave to stand tall with the roots growing tall as well.
That I will be cut down and no one would remember an old tree.
In my sleep, to let my mind go I need to be free.
I'm a tall 500 year old oak tree who stands tall and strong.
People will think of me as just a tree, but I'm not.
I'm strong confident maybe old tree.
© Breanna Holton