Trees

Green leaves slowly sway in the wind,
When they fall they might get binned.
Big, brown bark surrounding the trunk,
Woodpeckers peck out a chunk.
Swing, swing, swoop the tree falls down,
And it looks like a broken crown.
I feel the sticky sap,
When the people chop me, and I see a giant gap.
I don’t like to see that chop,
And I also don’t like to drop.
I like to stand nice and tall,
And not be turned in to a mall.
I like to stay in the forest,
And not be turned into dust.
I needed to be watered every day,
To keep me okay.
The sun shines on me,
Oh, so brightly.