Amongst old bark
Ripe fruit filled with sweetness
Roots in the deepness
Her slender stature is dainty
But strong feet hold her in place
Accessorized by green gems in summer
And red rubies in autumn
She drifts against the wind
And folds under the weight of white powder
A man approaches her.
He uses her, and takes her jewels.
She wants to escape from his doings
In fear that he will take her completely.
But her roots, they are too deep, too stuck.
She feels small.
There is nothing of her now.
Her roots still grip,
But her pride is gone.
Her beautiful exterior is reduced to all but a stump.