The Tree Strange Fruit

The tree of oak blowing in the breeze many things have come from the tree. Love of life eternally. Strange fruit bore from this tree I see feet dangle from the branch. I cry to the top of my lungs Brother do you need help? No reply or motion at all. The tree was the death of many that fall. The tree has haunted me in my sleep, I see my Ancestors way down south through the muddy creek lay another body's dangling feet. The tree has taken many to the promise land. Only because of the color of their skin. Blood on the leaves and blood on the root. Never bite or steal this strange fruit.