From a new piont-of-view, I am the tree,

So what do you see when you look at me?

Do you see a beautiful tree with a green canopy,

Or do you see nothing about me?

My limbs sag low like a willow tree,

But make no mistake I am a pine tree

I was born alone a long time ago,

Planted here with no place to go,

The only friend I have is this house that I know,

It's Victorian style gives off a glow,

I shade my friend in the summmer heat,

And love the feel water when it soaks my feet,

I stand tall and proud,

And am silent, not loud,

I can see for miles and miles,

Yet all that is there is concrete and tiles,

I eat, I drink, I grow,

Humans never seem to notice me though,

I don't live alone, but with many things,

Squirrels that play and birds that sing.

Yet what am I to the human eye,

Am I nothing more than a piece of the pie? What you would call hair is green year round,

My body is long, rough, and brown,

I have hundreds of arms all around me,

They reach for everything that I can see,

I love when people come to look at me,

And am jealous of the house which people want to see,

But I shouldn't moan,

For I am groan,

Or take for granted,

This wonderful place where I've been planted.

During school I act like a fool,

Because though I can't walk or talk,

I still try to be cool,

My bark is my skin and I have no chin,

But would love for you to come back again,

Though I speak these words that you cannot hear,

I don't have the eyes to shed a tear,

Yet I'm happy to be pine instead of oak,

For when they lose their leaves they look like a joke,

My aroma is wonderful, sweet, and fine,

Other trees only wish to have a scent like mine.

Now that I've spoken about my life,

Tell me, is yours happy, sad, or filled with strife,

Now that I've shared my life with you,

I'd like to know, what's your point-of-view?