Day 286: The Dead Tree

When I grow up

I want to be a dead tree

Grey and dry and lacking bark

I want to be evidence

Proof that my branches once grew

And my leaves sprouted

Dead in the middle of the forest

Sticking through the green leaves like

Black paint on white bricks

Contrasting the world

That once gave me life

A wonder for tourists to stare

Until all the bugs have eaten my core, and

The memory of me has faded from Earth

Someone will decide I’m an eyesore

With a shift slice of a laser saw

My standing tall arms and legs and back

Will fall

And I will be no more