My old friend, the tree., a short story by kitosdad. Date added: 2009-11-01. Times viewed: 830.
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They're cutting down my tree today,
They say he's far too tall.
I just can't bear to watch them,
Can't bear to see him fall.
For he's been my friend
Such a long long time now,
And I've sheltered in his shade,
On a sunny days and when skies were grey
I've never felt afraid.
They tell me that he's dangerous
And will surely one day fall,
So they're cutting down this friend of mine,
So strong and straight and tall.
They're cutting off his branches,
He waves to me, "Goodbye",
The people walk into their homes,
I hear a grown-up cry.
Branches where birds built their homes,
And sang the hours away,
Where they would sit and wake me,
On a glorious Summer's day.
The axe is falling, sharp and true,
It's done this work before.
It pays no heed to his cries of pain,
As he falls...to the floor.
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