There is a fable in the forests ,
Whispers by the crooked branded as they blow ,
a tale about truth and leaving is told ,
Things that no longer help u grow ,
For on the surface it looks simple ;"like u onlyneed to leave ur boots .
But there's nothing more pain full than finding your roots ,
The proof is found when tree stumps aline ,
that tell tales as old as time of the price to pay to flee,
That would cut their lives in half ,
and summon them to the tree ,
Yet from little left behind Life is known to grow outside the tree.
