a sun beats down
on the sorry brow
of a young boy
trapped inside
the body of a tree
five hundred years old
and twisted
with toes and thorns
and knots that beget
all real pain and grief
his heart beats
pumping veins of water
to ill branches
and dying leaves
but in his purgatory
he sees the world
as a king upon a kingdom
in all of its brilliance
and all of its turmoil
and beauty
and wonder.
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