The White Tree

We meet at the white tree every day.

I remember when we met at the tree.

Feeling lost in this new place.

You take me by the hand and show me this white tree.


You say if I’m ever lost come to this tree.

“This tree will make me feel safe,” you say.

“It will help you find your way,” you say.

But what do I do when you’re gone.


No more do I see you by the white tree.

No longer do we hold hands walking to the tree.

But instead you become one with the tree.

Making me feel even safer than ever before.

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