by Tanya Campman
Published on: Jul 17, 2007
Topic:
Type: Poetry

I am like the tree that stands alone in an open field, just waiting to be struck by lightning. But on a good day, can provide shade to the Earth underneath its branches but nothing else because who would want to convene under a tree in such an odd place? Surely such a walk to this tree would be taxing on society, which lifts a finger for no one except themselves. We are selfish. You can imagine the disappointment of this lonely tree. Never appreciated for its practicality but ostracized for its undeniable roots. I am that lonely tree in the middle of the open field. I feel as it does, alone, yet still surrounded by different elements such as the grass, the air, the sun, none the same as I. O how I yearn to be with my peers, to do as they do. Yet I am planted here, among these who know not my pain of isolation.

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