I was once a tree

I was once a tree.

Strong, brave. 

Expressing my leaves, colorful and bright.

My trunk, too thick to be cut. 

I was kind.

Delivering nutrients and lush, expecting return but...

Nothing.

Winter comes, I am weak.

I am weak and sensitive.

I am weak and mad.

I am weak and...

Sad.

Branches fall.

My leaves turn dull.

Angry sap spews out, painting the ground.

No longer a tree I am,

I am a weed. 

Waiting to be plucked, removed.

A useless piece, sitting alone. Lonely. Waiting.

I was once a tree.