It stands,
Beaten and scarred —


In its younger days
When it was lithe and green,
Some boys thought
It would be great fun
To play lumberjacks.
Soon they tired of their endeavor.


So it stood
Wounded and Bleeding —


When it was older
And the scars had turned ashen,
Some girls thought
It would be great fun
To put red spray paint
All over the ashen wounds.


Still it stood
Disfigured and Deformed –



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