...as the old pine tree stand in the stillness of the day...
he waits for the sun to sleep
without a clue, the sky turns black
and rain starts to pour hard on the land
the rain crashes down on earth
a storm, the strongest for the year
Weak old tree
bend his tired toes
breaths profusely in the storm
his leaves scalded
his branches, not strong anymore
crashed down the ground
his tears pouring with the rain
picking his self back
but his not like the grass nor the bamboo
who could stood still in the nature's wrath..
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