How beautiful that tree,
Must be.
How elegant the branches,
Seem to be.
How softly the leaves,
Fall down.
How sweet the wind,
Flows through the graceful tree; making a lovely sound.
How strong the roots, Hold on to the ground.
That Big Beautiful Tree started somewhere.
It took time to grow.
The tree looks just so beautiful there.
Little do you know.
The roots are childhood trauma.
Eventually sprouting into branches.
All the branches are: pain, hurt, and drama.
The leaves represent hopeful chances.
But soon enough.
The leaves will eventually fall.
The leaves on the ground are dead; making them crunchy and rough.
Making the tree look small.
Momma, Daddy, what happened to That Big Beautiful Tree?
Well my love, I thought you were That Big Beautiful Tree?
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