Ooh! a Tree grows In me

It awaits sunlight for photosynthesis

Than ever before

It dwells in me like an annual crop

It seems dead to the world still exist

On fertile soil

Thousand blades has crossed my path

To the point of my Salvation

Oh! oh! In Seconds

My leaves has turn yellowish

The branches are weak

My stem has twisted badly

My roots are bitter than before

My fruits are no longer with me

Rainfall has repudiate to wet my coat

X -rays has eluded my image

How on earth can I be a good plant

To man?

I can’t have a Subordinate

She can’t taste my fruit

They can’t trust my branches

We lecture our hearts not appearance

The Sun smile at me twice a second

Still I don’t think im the Favorite

Yet we are together

Will faith ever restore me?

Silage render Soil age

Hay equates Straw

Could this be applicable to the feels?

Nothing beat me dead, Love of a Fan