The Palm Within the Pines

Deep in the pine wood

Grew a special tree.

Thinking, there I stood

Rooted deep was me.

I pondered the thought

Of getting my saw.

Right and wrongness fought,

Dumbfounded, in awe.

Looking blindly for

Something, nothing there.

Deep within the core,

Inside, never bare

But, the other trees

Never care at all.

Still, they always tease

wanting me to fall.

I am not as strange

As they seem to think.

Maybe I can change?

Always on the brink.

Wanting to fit in,

Trying hard to cope.

Lost without my kin,

Always losing hope.