We are all born equal. At least, that is what they said.
Plant a tree in a forest and now you feel achieved giving back to nature.
Yet, has it crossed your mind that now it has to compete?
Snatched off opportunities to grasp for air, yet it struggles to live.
Maybe every tree in the forest endured the same, I thought.
Yet, I will rise. Rise to the top and feel the rays of feat.
If the sun shines so brightly, why would not I deserve its glory?
Many will come, to attain pieces of my bark and to bring me down.
They need pieces of me to build structures that lift them, you see?
They can come with all their might, I will stand strong.
If dams built by the body of my kin could withhold so much,
reckon my might, while I stood against storm.
I will grow so strong that men make swords out of wood instead.
Then came the winds. Winds of words and tales.
Not all trunks are the same, they said.
Past the season, much wilted, but some triumph.
Yes, it is true that not all trunks are the same.
I may not have much of a trunk, but I certainly have spunk.
In the end, when spring comes, I would have outgrew the rest.
My flowers will bloom, my leaves will shadow the ground.
People will stand and admire my greatness.
I will be there one day, to grow so strong and high, and to feel the rays of feat.