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Oh tree, my love, can I see you once more?
In the spring's first light, I carved your name.
The branches grew, standing proud and tall,
But time has passed, leaving me small.
In the spring, I grew,
yet stayed the same.
My wounds still roll, but I play the game.
In the quiet night, I hear your song.
The garden's whispers, where I belong.
Through the night's still air,
your voice calls loud.
In this garden,
I am lost and proud.
