Paul Davis

Your Tree

You look out from your yard to see me,
My leaves have all been turned brown.
I move in wind watching you be,
As you make your way into the town.

All my branches, they know your pain,
For forgiveness and mercy you try.
Of all of the men you have slain,
You could not look one in the eye.

I can read your lies like a book,
As the time comes for one more.
You stand in the shadows, a crook,
As he makes his way towards the door.

I told you that you should not go,
But I guess I will see you below.





[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2009 EDITION]


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