Old Life
Old life
A tree has a seed
A small seed gives life to a tree
Now a tree grows
By girth it increases
Leaves green they look
The only shade for hot sun
A hope keeps glowing for the gardener
Vigorously the gardener sees it grow
Now old it is
Down it withers from head
Roots no longer go deeper
Time now for it to be cared
Old the tree is new branches keeps it alive
The tree is now growing white
A stick needed to make it stand
Branches its your time
The tree's time long gone
Silas the poet
Copyright © Silas Makori | Year Posted 2021
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