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...