Memory of a Tree

Not me. Memory is like the rings of a tree.

A tree so tall, it could never fall.

In a forest so deep, the flowers don't weep.

The might of the oak, the bees don't poke.

There is no sun, for a tree never runs.

The like of one you have never seen. As this tree that I am is beyond being free.

Please proceed ahead! I am the owner of this forest.

They are not a problem for you, trust me, I'm honest.

For what you see is also what you hear. But tell no one what you saw and that you were here.

Farewell.