An American Tree Poem by Meredith B.

An American Tree

Rating: 5.0

America is said to be
Home of the brave
Land of the free
But what about this tree?

These people think it's great
They pull trees to the limit
‘Till they're completely straight.
But is it something God wanted us to create?

The tree spends it's best years
In the confines of a tiny fence
The rain today makes the tree shed tears
The next day there's a man with shears.

These people are crazy
Thinking they can control nature
If I were the tree
I'd want to be free

To dig roots
Wherever I like
Just like the trees in the forest do
Strong and true

Those grow just fine
Without the help of humans
Their own unique shape and size
And they've never been confined

I wonder what that tree'd be like
If we hadn't bothered
Making it look just right
At least, in our eyes.

How would it choose to grow?
It probably wouldn't have chosen this but
I guess we'll never know
We've made it our own

This little tree will never be free
Because we had to go and mess with it
And forever this poor tree will be
An American tree.

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