I once met a man, his age past ninety,
Wrinkled like a prune, weakened by old age.
Told me a story, from his youthful days.
A story about, “my friend, the kind tree”.

“A long time ago, the trees, they stood tall,
And in my village, there stood a big tree.
Though trees were many, and handsome like thee,
This tree, the tallest, most handsome of all.”

“It fed me big fruits, as sweet as my hun.
I cured myself from, its leaves and its bark.
It gave me fresh air, and rest for the larks.
My friend, the kind tree, as lovely as sun..”

“..Then they killed them all, including my tree!!”
The old man then fell, and he ceased to breathe.