I sit beneath the old crooked tree.
All bent and weathered just like me.
We sit in silence, he and I.
Staring at the moonlit sky.
What tomorrow brings for either of us.
Makes no difference we do what we must.
Neither are willing to give up the fight.
Not on this deep dark night.Mind wanders to life lessons learned.Unable to change what my heart does yearn.
All the storms I have yet to see.
May I always be as strong as the old crooked tree.
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