Poem By Lawrence S. Pertillar

Far too many are forgiving.
And sacrificial.
Positioned to allow,
Breath as we know it to breathe.

They feel.
Bleed and silently scream.
Few are seen being thanked.
Or properly are they given a requiem.

These are our trees!
And cringing...
From the mindless disrespect.

And yet...
From Sunrise to Sunset,
Each raindropp that falls upon them...
Whether Pine needles or leaves,
Of the Oak, Birch or Maple.
And so many others unnoticed.
Or caring less,
If they aren't addressed by name.
Still they stand tall through it all!

Receiving a nourishment that feeds.
And they remain steadfast...
Even if they are not given,
The benefit of a passing glance.
With loyalty...
They are in support,
Of our unconscious values!
We have abused!
And willfully aborted.

These are our trees!
Our trees on this Earth...
Allowing us to breathe,

As they protect.
And probably cringe...
From the mindless disrespect.
With a neglect,
And a thoughtlessness accepted!

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