Tree

I started out as a seed,
I was planted in the ground,
With hard work I grew into a proud little sprout,
I could feel the sun,
I could feel the breeze,
I looked up to the sky to see my elder trees,
I admire their leaves,
But they only seem to tease me,
My two small leaves burn with hate,
I no longer want to be a tree,
Being a tree is no longer my dream,
I block out the sun,
I block out the breeze,
I no longer look up to my elder trees,
A new seed was planted into the ground,
Not too long later it started to sprout,
The trees would tease,
And call her mean names,
But she never seemed to care,
She Ignored her elder trees' mean names,
She even once told me she still aims to be a tree,
She soaks in the sun,
And soaks in the breeze,
All I could do was stare,
As I could never dare,
To try again,
To be myself,
To be a tree,
©simp