There once was a tree small and sturdy, and yes I confess that tree is all me. But the roots that it grew, didn't grow by themselves, those roots went through problems; their own little hell. Each twig and and each flower stood on its own, each represent moments that since then have grown. Each year that it grows, it's foundation gets stronger giving the tree a chance to live longer. And as new flowers show off in arrays the beauty within me comes out to display. And as each season passes with no delay, I grow with the tree as they replay. From spring in my youth, to summer in my adulthood, fall in my age, and winter in my death I grow with my tree and I age with my tree and I take from it all my memories. From problems, mistakes, regrets, and self hate, to accepting myself and accepting my fate, to my first love, and my last kiss, my precious old tree holds all of this. So then in my death don't you dare cry, stand by this tree and I'm by your side