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Poem

This world wasn’t cut for me
But I live here for awhile
With a mind of a withered tree
A tree with indefinite smile 
Come to my shadow, when it’s too hot
I offer a shelter from sun and rain
Seeing my meekness, use me as you want
Bring me your suffer and pain
They chopped me down, to make tables of me
Discussing the last football game
Put in some office, there I'll be
A stand for the cups of champagne 
At night I'm feeling down
Remembering times, when I was tall
Until they took off my crown 
To make me feel poor and small 
They’ve cut me into planks 
They’ve made a fool out of me
I’d love to say my thanks
But no one remembers a tree.

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