THE TREE

Roots sucked in A monolith firmly Chops up the age-old stone Strongly squeezing This frail samll world In it holds. Semismothered, but still it wheezes Greedily, It not reconcling oneself With wicked fate A long ago it lost The fervor former. The pro

You know what troubles me? They say that nobody ever changes Despite their impressions otherwise And despite my efforts, I'm daunted by the same faults as always. While I'm tired of their jabs, they seem ever renewed by some hidden source of sustenan