After All, I Am Human And I Am King Poem by RIC BASTASA

I sometimes think that the tree loves me

i look at the leaves

find hope in its buds, until all these

leaves, buds,

die,

until all the leaves fall and scatter all its dead self

on the ground

where the roots have no reaction at all,

until the buds are nipped and

the world speaks nothing about it,

since, destruction and death are nothing but

normal occurrences somehow

that everything around it, the air included,

has nothing to express,

i listen, i scrutinize what is happening to me

thinking that this tree which has no preoccupation but to grow taller

and look for sunlight

is in love with me,

this mind that makes inventions, that fabricates things that

must make it a survivor,

oh well, i can think i want and leave this tree upon its

mindless existence,

after all, i am human and i am king.

i sometimes think that the tree loves me

i look at the leaves

find hope in its buds, until all these

leaves, buds,

die,

until all the leaves fall and scatter all its dead self

on the ground

where the roots have no reaction at all,

until the buds are nipped and

the world speaks nothing about it,

since, destruction and death are nothing but

normal occurrences somehow

that everything around it, the air included,

has nothing to express,

i listen, i scrutinize what is happening to me

thinking that this tree which has no preoccupation but to grow taller

and look for sunlight

is in love with me,

this mind that makes inventions, that fabricates things that

must make it a survivor,

oh well, i can think i want and leave this tree upon its

mindless existence,

after all, i am human and i am king.