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.
...