The Tree

Breeze cold and slow blew across the meadows,
Stood tall the tree among many little weeds.
Asked the weed to the old tree - As tall as you, when will I be?,
Tree bent on its knees and said to the weed.
Tall you will be, but from up here, what will you see?
Dirt, Misery and Sickness will you see?
'Nature and its beauty I want to see, As tall as you, I want to be.'
Nature's dying and withering is its beauty'
When you grow tall, nothing will be left to see,
Nothing will be left to see....