Unfinished

(Photo by yours truly)

Unfinished
By Butternose

Alone in a field, there stood a young tree.

There were limbs and leaves,

And it took more than once.

But I remember I climbed it,

Though it was tough as could be.

I seized it and I scratched it,

I hurt that young tree.

But when I got home, I found,

The tree had hurt me.

There were bruises and scrapes,

And blood that would stain.

I wasn’t sure what had happened,

I wasn’t sure I’d be the same.

Now time has passed, a great time for me,

Of love and of life, and of things yet to be.

I never went back to settle the score, but,

Alone in a field, there stands an old tree.