False claims of beauty can never be made
For the tree grows which ever way it
Chooses and even the smuggest of
Overgrown apes cannot tell which branch
Will explode and lend us its greatness.
I found an apple on it's end and assumed
It was unclean; how more wrong could I be?
Nature reaches out to us beyond
Its roots that we must respect but
Not regret, believing in a peaceful co-existence
Of our minds to their minds and our thoughts
To their thoughts. We use pigments to
Vainly portray what they put together
And what we fight to keep apart.
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