The All-Seeing Poem by Linda Claire

Havn't you ever wondered
What it's like to be a tree?
To see everything that goes on
Over so many years?

To see children grow old?
To see love?
To see hate?
To see agreement?
To see quarreling?

Trees know so much.
they observe.
They just watch.
Trees know so much.

They see environmental hanges.
They see art being made.
They see history,
They see the truth.
They see lies.

They watch the children be born.
Then fall in love.
Then break up.
Then cry.
Then marry.
Then have kids of their own.
Then divorce.
Then cry.

Now, why can't I
Be a tree?