THE TREE

If each leaf is a wish granted,
I’ll share one with you.
And whenever you return,
I’ll be a minute older.

A day may seem too long
To see you grow one on your own
I’ll be then just grasses—
Dead beneath your feet.

I’ll give breath to your dreams still,
While these blades haven’t turned copper,
While you’re here—
While you keep coming back…

© Gheeneil

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