I Was Here

A boy walks a half mile down a trail He stops Walks towards a large tree Pulls a pocket knife from his jacket His father gave him this knife Having received it from his father And his father before him A boy carves into the bark of the tree His name I WAS HERE A boy becomes a man And a man walks down many trails Many trails and many trees I WAS HERE, I WAS HERE, I WAS HERE A man crosses a bridge Upon it he carves his name I WAS HERE He slips Drops the knife into the water It is lost forever A knife falls into a river And a man grows old No wife, no children, no grandchildren He is alone A knife is swept into an ocean And an old man dies, as old men do Tell me, What is the value of an object, If it holds significance to only one man? What is the value of a man, If he is significant to no one? If a tree falls when no one is around, Does it make a sound? (I WAS HERE) A tree falls in a forest A tree with a name carved into it A name carved by a boy who became a man who is now dead I WAS HERE A tree is turned into paper And the paper becomes pages And the pages hold two stories One in ink, one invisible I WAS HERE Tell me, What is the value of a story that no one reads? Does a story exist if it cannot be read? If a man dies when no one is in the room, Is he really dead? Many years have passed A girl stands a half mile down a trail Marker in her hand I WAS HERE.