Benevo len t Be ings

Incumbent upon happier days Furiously examining ideas Triumphantly masked in the process A tree gives me an idea Deeply rooted feelings Grow into needy leaves While you sit under me Then rake all my dreams And shred them for others needs So they can grown into other things Satisfied with what I have Scientists examine my existence Playing with my ample insides While I live to die again Then you cut me down Rape me of soil and soul To profit from raw goods And so the process goes Of which I have no control

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