Brothers Of Life

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem about the last tree standing in a forest that has been cut down.

Submitted: October 08, 2014

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Submitted: October 08, 2014

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Brothers of Life

Once closely surrounded,

By Brothers of Life.

Simply cut down,

By a poor man’s knife.

The leaves have left,

The roots torn away.

My Brothers of Life,

Can no longer sway.

I am the youngest,

That much is true.

Count the rings on my fellows,

And see why I cry the blues.

For many long years,

They stood by my side.

Sharing the sun,

Sharing the pride.

When Fall rolled around,

And the leaves turned yellow.

My brothers and I,

Became calm and mellow.

For three months we laid,

In quiet slumber.

Wondering when,

They would call our number.

We awoke in the spring,

With wild wonder.

At the sound of,

 A humongous thunder.

The saws they whir,

The saws they buzz.

The saws came down,

Not caring what it was.

My Brothers of Life,

Fell to the earth.

Men caring only,

For their worth.

I hear them laugh,

Like the old days.

Telling me in my dreams,

That they’re not far away.

In my eyes,

They could still be here.

If the careless men,

Had drunk one less beer.

My Brothers of Life,

Were carted away.

Nobody was left,

With me to sway.

Always with me they are,

Saying fear the knife.

The last advice given,

By my Brothers of Life.


© Copyright 2019 Charles McConan. All rights reserved.

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