Bruised Torn and Battered
Me, look at me
In my background of gloom
I'm barely alive
In natures front room
I feel like the tree
In naked surround
Bruised torn and battered
On soiled life's ground
I used to stand tall
So proud of me
Now I wither and age
In bleak's misery
The tolling of my bell
Like thunder to the tree
We appear to be in sync
So troubled and nearly free
Pillars we are and always
In our peripheral
Born we are of creation
Who said it would be a ball
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-17.php
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