HOW I WISH I COULD MOVE


How I wish I could move, see the coast lines while I listen to good weekend vibes.

How I wish I could move, drive miles till the car runs dry.

But who I’m I to lie than lay here and witness all my friends die.

The thirst of the world taking us down one by one.

What are we to them, nothing but a smile, and us a wood pile.

We are trees and the world sees us as great trims.

For even if we help bring the breeze, their axes won’t freeze.

How I wish I could move, run so far to a jungle so divine

And hope for a natural death than cuts by sharp blades.

How I wish I could move, find a place so high so high they cannot find

So I would lay my roots and know all is fine.

How I wish I could move

How I wish I could move

How I wish I could move

Well, this is what I wish, but who am I again? The next round of wood pile.

(Memoirs of a tree that’s probably trims of your bed.) GO GREEN


Picture credits to stockproject1 deviantart



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