I Am A Tree. I Have No Friends. Poem by Wilson Khor W.H.

I am a tree.
I have no friends.

The sun beams me her life.
The earth feeds me her nourishment.
Birds perch on my branches
with their young safely perched
as squirrels play
and bees make homes
among my green and blooms.

But could the birds who sing
of lands beyond these hills
hear my sighs between their songs
rustling among the leaves?
Could the squirrels and bees
house me from the rain,
welcome me at night
to rest among their kin?
And could the sun not flee
the earth not free
when the snow weighs down
on my already brittle limbs?

Nobody could. Nobody can.
Because I am a tree.
I will never have friends.