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Broken Tree

As i lay here on my sick bed, here within my room,
There’s a window that lets in the light to break up all the gloom.
Out the window is the same view, a small hill not far away,
The sun casting dark grey shadows as it moves throughout the day.
Then as  i look i see it, the small, frail, broken tree,
The one tree out all one it’s own, the one i’ve now called “me”
The other trees keep their distance from this sickly looking sight,
None of them engaging, in this poor trees lonely plight.
Yet no matter what the weather, harsh winter, wind or rain.
Broken tree survives the onslaught, bravely claiming it’s domain.
It may bear no buds in springtime and in summer while others peak,
It’s frame remains quite ghostlike, all withered sad and weak.

But that broken tree inspires me, as i view it there each day,
For it reminds me that no matter what “you can fight this come what may”
Broken tree i’ll keep on fighting, we’re so similar you and i,
Why should i lie in pity, while you’re still reaching for the sky?
We can both enjoy the pleasure of the sun and stars above,
And me i have my loved ones, with their never ending love,
At the summit of the hill you sit and i know the reason why,
It’s a place for all the strongest trees so keep on reaching for the sky.

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