That I choose
To judge you.
For I have come to understand
That all that we perceive
Is based upon our own personal – history.
I know that a tree is a tree
Because at one time
I laid my hand upon something –
I felt it
I smelt it
I saw it
Hell at that age, I might of even tasted it
And someone called it – TREE
All things that resemble
Are trees to me.
And my tree
May not be your tree
This leaves us
With only one thing to do
And I will be thankful
For the unique individual
And you to be thankful
Byron Headrick's Other Poems
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