I view a planted seedling,

Thus, infant it will be,

‘Twas, growing and maturing,

Into a sturdy, salient tree.


When time reveals it all,

Destruction is left behind,

Therefore scarce fauna left,

Hence, little left to find.


The consequence is obvious,

I heave a saddened sigh,

The trees, they whisper softly,

They sing a lullaby.


They sway to the music,

Although they are in strife,

They give us life, they shed us hope,

We owe them all our life.


I know there is hope,

But there may not be long,

Just tell me one more story,

Just sing me one more song.