They couldn't contain wolves,
Wanted to fly overhead.
Shoved off to the corner
Of bright gloomy clouds.
Tree picked up and raised
Me from the dead.
Shared my body shared my habits.
Never knew a friend like this
Could contain such grace.
Finally found you.
Leaning on a tree,
It's turning grosser
Of air.
The soils of much began to turn
Like a mud slide,
Losing its grace.
Holding and loving
The tree in my own way.
I breath out it breaths me in,
My sicken habits
Make the tree tainted
Of my ways.
How can I do this to a friend?
Of whom it gives my oxygen and air.
And I give it ungratefulness
And a chirping bark.
If I was happier then real gold,
I would chase you until I was dead...