Kaylee L., 9th Grade & Amanda P., 9th Grade
People have heard us through the years,
screaming through our tears.
Many have tried to come and help,
only to have been left with empty hearts.
Never understanding why our cry
can make those so precious suddenly die.
It is our burden, so to tell,
we can never leave our shallow shore,
We must live out our eternal lives together.
Nevertheless, we do not mind,
we have our collection to keep us company,
and we always seem to have visitors,
so we are allows adding new trophies.
The strongest tree is not the red wood
Nor is it the great sycamore
It is the tree that chooses to bend
The tree that is called “ugly” for its knots and mends
The tree that slants just ever so sadly
And shows how its bark was treated so badly
This poor little tree that has weathered the worst
The small little stalk that has been dried with thirst
This green little soldier, tried and true
Has seen so much more than me and you
When winds were brutal
And frosts were cruel
It shows the story in its bumps and lumps
So the tree isn’t pretty, and maybe it slumps
But it knows strength
That no other tree can know
So how can you see the tree
By the imperfections that may be