Life is like a giant oak tree,
It can blossom into beauty, or be droopy.
It can grow beautiful flowers,
Or wilt, all depending on your powers.
Slow growing, with roots dug deep in the ground,
Tying you down, so you can't freely move around.
Each tree different, special in its own way,
Yet can be alive, and then dead the next day.
Drama can strike, cutting the tree deep within,
As the blade cuts deep into the trees hard skin.
Or, the tree can live a long happy existence,
The tree will let out, a happy, flowery fragrance.
Every tree is different, and none are treated the same,
The trees are lucky if you even know their name.
In the fall they lose their leave, meaning a long cold winter,
Where their precious skin will chap and splinter.
Every tree may be different, yet some bees choose to live in,
Those trees have to deal with sting, after painful sting.
So, how is life different than a tree,
At least it cannot feel pain, like we.
