People are trees.
They sway in the directions the wind blows them,
imitating how the ones closest to them act.
How they twist and flaunt
their newly-developed mask
while tender wind whispers in their hearts,
producing internal vigor that keeps them fighting
through the rough thunderstorms.

Unity keeps them strong;
just one snarl can break it apart
or jolt a close neighbor,
maybe even bend one of the family
so much it can't take it anymore;
it goes out with a loud "SNAP!"
and there is no more.

When the end is nearing,
the mask starts to fade
the core starts to chip-
realizing they are slowly decaying
from the outside in.
And as they wither away,
their cultivated hearts live on to plant a new seed,
creating a new beginning that keeps the work going round.