We grew in noxious soil and fed on dirt;
We yearned for just a moment in the sun.
Every apple that fell bruised and shrivelled;
Our selfishness ensured none felt the warmth.
No shears strong enough to sever our twine;
Disease rooted us to our rotten core.
We were incurably infected.
Creatures who dared to approach soon withered.
Knowing the truth twisted and knotted our bark;
Endless deceit aged and decayed our roots.
We felt the insects crawl over our trunk;
Our leaves withered and fell onto the earth.
A tormented family with poisoned vines;
We knew neither compassion nor pleasure.
Worms and spineless snakes coiled around our roots;
Destroyed by blades of abuse and hate.