The Tree

A poem on trees

The Tree

That big tall banyan tree,
Where I played when I was free.
It must be there for thousands of years,
That tree even made me happy and wiped my tears.
I wish I could play on it now,
But I can’t somehow.
It’s gone now,
When I would climb it up, it first used to before me.
I miss that tree,
Looking at it, I would glee.
That big tall banyan tree,
Where I played when I was free