Verse ~ The story of a survival.

Once I was inside a seed,
Waiting for the plumule to bleed,
Sprouted with hope to get freed,
Growing with not enough speed.

Days passed like months did,
Months passed like years did,
Saw the first green in summer mid,
Still some parts left undid.

I was young but dreamed being a tree,
Hoping to grow fast so I can be free,
I can fly high without an agree,
No difficulties I have foreseen.

As the time passed I grew old,
Some of the leaves turned to gold,
Some of the leaves is still unfold,
I turned the head up to become the mold.

I realized it was not easy as I thought,
Weathers put me in challenges I had never ever fought,
Winters with mist and Summers with drought,
My mind which hoped to grow had rethought.

Men came with sharps in their hand,
I gave them shade and fruits they want,
"Cut the f*ckin tree"one did command,
Half of mine gone now I can't withstand.

All I wished become a dream,
The battle I fought in the extreme,
The freedom I wished against the stream,
Everything is poured downstreams.

Instead of sad I chose to be proud,
For the given shades, fruits and woods,
And to be given manure for the good,
I'll tell my story till the end of manhood.

~ @inkless_diary


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