The Tree Poem by Rex Mathew Mathew

I once stood as a young tender plant
By the wet banks of a tranquil brook.
I grew by hearing the song-bird’s chant
While lying by the great oak’s nook.

The sweet-smelling grass, soothing to the eye,
Held me and my friends and the locusts too.
For a little rest, the sun rays came to lie
By the tall trees where the squirrels did argue.

When everything seemed nice and neat,
Things started changing the way it had been.
Sorrow, in our happy hearts, took its seat
When Man entered the scene.

Driven by his selfish, greedy emotions,
Man charged forward with his axe.
The glaring destruction was brought by his actions;
It was all because of Man and his dirty pranks.

Man’s axe and thirst for fur, wood and timber
Did strike in me a severe cut, dark and deep,
Of grief awaken from a prolonged slumber
By wickedly lulling sweet joy to sleep.

My elders fell on and by the brook;
My furry friends had their homes stormed.
My elders fell on each and every nook;
My furry friends had their lives stormed.

Now the song-birds don’t sing anymore,
The grass doesn’t smell sweet anymore,
The squirrels don’t play anymore
And the brook doesn’t flow anymore.

I once stood as a young tender plant
By the wet banks of a tranquil brook.
I grew by hearing the song-bird’s chant
While lying by the great oak’s nook.

I now stand as an old dying tree,
Alone in a barren land wherein my life dims.
Fate left me alone as a witness to see
How it plays tricks on its poor victims.