We the Many

Among ourselves we swoon and sigh, the many of us against them.
But they are moved by legs and arms, we are bound by root and soil.
They came with axe and bright saws. Metals and pieces of my brother.
They take a limb from here, then one from there, and we sleep through pain.
There’s nought we can do but watch as chains and saws make eerie thrum,
Then through our skin and then our flesh, the beautiful us to spoil.
They first took my friend, then my father, then my dearest lover.
Their saw blades stained the very veins, then the loud, large lorries came.
They took our bodies to make their homes, they stepped o’er our young stems,
They took our home, ourselves, our pride, despite our long, endless toil.
There is no ease in growing these our flesh and outside cover.
We are trees, the forest itself, and you men destroy, then claim.


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