ONE TREE One tree has the right idea Her leaves are turning red. As autumn nears she sheds her fears And soon will bow her head.
Her fruit was ripe, was picked, is gone, Her branches have been shaken -- Now nothing's left, except the signs Of tolls that time has taken.
The other trees just laugh and stand And stare or what trees do. They do not seem to understand; So many, and so few.
But our tree has an iron will And sturdy roots and boughs. She knows the value of a thought And one's own dreams and vows.
And one tree has the right idea Her leaves are turning red. No time for sighs when time arrives, She simply sleeps instead.
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