Big Apple Tree Poem by Alexander Foald

I’m too old to be satisfied
With this life I’ve just got
I’m too old to be entertained
With this joke I’ve just encountered

Watching the birds above, flying
They land on one of my hair, nesting
Having babies, squeaking little birds
Asking their mom for another fix

I count on life to bring me food
I let the sun burn through my skin
I befriend with the wind that passes by
I love everything God introduces to me

But not so fast, not so quite smart
To understand how this world turns around
Before I can learn to sing the glory loud
I need to learn what fate is planning to do

Until the sound of doom is closing in
I can’t get myself being satisfied with this
For everything I’ve been given so far
I’m just too old to remember my thank