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The Tree

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He walks around in circles
Not knowing where to go
Until upon a mountain
Under a tree
He stops

He rests up against it
Wood scratching at his back
Leaves falling for him to see
He stiffens up
And begins to sway in the wind

Looking over the rest of the forest
Stuck in one spot
Aging within his trunk
His eyes can’t see
And he lets us breath.





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