That you would snap under pressure, are neither Teak nor Oak,
Is none of our fault - that much everyone should soak.
Adversity builds character, we define what's called normal,
That you were born a Birch or a Willow, is profoundly abnormal.
You have neither strength nor resilience, O Tempora O Mores,
You had ambition to grow and get tall, now why cry hoarse?
Why cry over spilled milk, Que Sera Sera is the way,
Let the dead wood drift silently, let's burn pots out of clay.
In the furnace of life, let diamonds be wrought,
Let the young ones fuel the fire, before sets the rot.
Sacrifice of a few is justified, if its to get work done,
Sorting through weak and strong- is a noble purpose for one!
That some of us snap under pressure, is the fault in our trees?
That some can't withstand the toxic winds, but were made for the gentle breeze?
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