The Tree's Cry

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Out here the trees speak in disconsolate tongues
The accompanying winds lend a gentle ear
"I see them come, but they leave ruin"
Tall, stoic and mature, they reach out to the heavens for help
Their cries go unanswered
Only the wind comprehends their mournful entreaties
"Behold our plight, do not deny our voices"
Who hears the befallen tree, once so graceful and free?
Will you lend your hand and heart?
Or just stand idly by as a witness to their tragedy?


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