Trees

I am a tree, I help you be free, you don't give me respect, oh that's why I suspect
I give you air, which you don't even care
You walk past me all so glad, which makes me cry, which makes me sad
I shelter you when it rains, but when it turns sunny you walk away, leaving me there feeling...okay
Sometimes I feel guilt and relief, I know you don't care if I die or decease
All I know is you will feel a pocket of grief