Picture Prompt Poetry I

The Suar Woods regret like we do,
That’s why they live like humans too-
in torment’s cage, i am afraid.
When the war comes, so does the blade
that carves out the surviving few.

Then they end like this, without dew,
scarred in the middle, gutless shew.
Mahogany, Maple abrade,
The Suar Woods regret.

But if only the Basswood knew,
the Pine, Balsa, Aspen and you,
the Butternut and Oak betrayed,
connived against into this trade
The Suar Woods regret.


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