The dead tree

I walk by this old tree every day. You can usually tell what tree it is because it is the only tree in the park that stands out in the middle of left field of the deserted little league baseball diamond. I wish i could say that it is a big bushy leafy green tree with alot of life. It is not alive, the tree i pass by everyday is dead. The bark on the trunk can easily be broken off with a little effort. You can see that the tree has been there for many generations. There are cliche carved hearts with enitials of relationships that have grown apart and a sprinkling of lumber planks that spark evidence of childish attempts at creating a natural escape. I usually only get about 19 minutes a day to roam this sector of the park. Ninteen minutes of life gives me hope to look beyond the dead tree and see that it is a image of stability for many. I think thats whay i enjoy comming out here and just gazing at the dead branches and its dried and crumbly trunk. I learn a lesson that is renewed every day, even though my life is over and America will never be the same and i might not make it out of here alive; the tree gives me hope that even if i die i will still have purpose.. There is the bell its time to check in..