Trees

I used to be the tree that everyone could sit by, on a hot summer’s day.
Children climbed on my branches and, had races to climb the tree faster.
As I got older I couldn’t support the weight,
And no longer had those beautiful green shinny leaves as I once did.
The cold moon, light shines.
Yet the Waverly sky diminishes.
The once lively willow tree now softens.
The earth becomes lonely.
People walk by, with no longer smiles upon there faces.
I’m not the tree that once was, but I am that tree,
That will be there for years, and years, to come.