The Silent Giants
By Simran K
Softly the wind blows,
Rustling your dry, lifeless leaves
In your solemn stand.
As the years fly by,
You remember the days spent
In the cool forests.
Under the sunlight,
Surrounded by a bed of grass
And a clear blue stream.
But here you are now
Grounded in reality,
Black stones around your feet.
As we trim your leaves
And shorten your wooden limbs;
Pointless perfection.
You’re no longer free,
Trapped in this new, fast-paced world
surrounded by grey giants.