Well here is another one of my lame atempts to create poetry but here we go.
Life as Late as a Tree
During the somer I am full of life
Full of green leaves
So beutiful and so strong
Sure eventually a storm will come along
I might loose a few leeves
And amybe even some limbs
But I get over it
It makes me stronger
As some would say
At least you werent struck by lightening
Than came the fall
The weather changes
It starts to get colder
My leaves begin to change to beutiful colors
Thats fine thats natural
And then one night a big storm came through
Before I know it the next morining
All my leaves are gone
No where to be seen
But as I look down there they are
All brown and dying
Now I'm naked
Now I'm ugly
Hard to look at
Even sometimes spooky looking
I'm depressed all the time now
But I guess that thats part of being a tree.
I know that it may sound rather weird but trust me it all makes sense if you have any questions i would be happy to answer them. Im not even sure if that up there is poetry but oh well.
