I Look For Trees

As funny as it may seems,
I always look for trees.
Like a dome that protects the weary,
To help us look things clearly...

I observe them, I study them, I want them.
But I can never penetrate the powerful barrier that prevents me from touching them.
I can only look at it and feel envy as I watch the squirrels that dwell within it;
And I wonder 'How can they be with it'?

Still I keep searching;
I here in the cold, cruel, prairie - surviving.
I can't show the creatures that I am crying;
Because if they learn about my weaknesses, they'll be laughing.

Why can't I be orphaned by the trees that I long for?
Why can't any creature accept me in their homes?
Why can't I even make a tree myself?
Am I supposed to suffer like this?!

Yes, there are forsaken creatures like me,
But they can't even touch a seedling!
The wolves that visit us are full of greed!
Hence, making us Nature's lonley beings.

I dread that I will also end up like them;
Their flesh consumed by the maggots and leaving the bones to the Devil's den.
There's something wrong with me,
I can't let this be,
I must be free!

Now the bats join us,
But the difference is, they can touch the trees.
They can join the happy weeds,
And take the creatures that dwells in the tree.

As we, the forsaken beings, grow;
The truth begins to show.
That our exsitence isn't made for fruits that you, the happy ones, eat.
But it is made for the thing we do everyday;
And it is surviving.

*the poem's message isn't simply just about survival... there's something more PERSONAL