Civil Wars
A Pictoral poem
by Chris Mysen
A tree
sways gently
a cool crisp breeze
never knowing of life
not caring for another's business,
not caring to be another.
As an oak is an oak, a maple a maple
and an oak does not try to be maple
for an oak will always be an oak.
People rush, few caring of the oak
oaks live on, not caring of the people
the oak does not need or want
nor strive or envy or doubt
just some chemicals
working together
harmony
peace.
Living long lives
through civil wars
and peace accords
not caring, nor
needing to at all.
People could learn a lot from trees.
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Last Updated: 9/2/95