CZW ( / Singapore)

Maple Trees

Looking out of the window,
At the maple tree in the winter,
I ask myself why something so old,
Is such a believer?

Maple leaves fall with snow,
But never gets buried in,
So I questioned why something so cold,
Never falls to anything?

When winter ends,
The maple leaves and snow disappears,
So I wondered why something that weakly stands,
Does not have fears?

But when maple trees are bare,
And they still survive,
I just stare,
At the lessons of life.

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Comments (1)

i smell a poet in the making.