Like the oak seed, I grew.
Strong and beautiful, I grew.
Unaware that the world,
Could take the beauty away,
Leaving only stem.

Like the oak sprout, he emerged.
Strong and beautiful, he emerged.
Hoping that time would allow
Him to grow.
Not realizing he would be uprooted.

Like the oak saplings, we sprouted.
Strong and beautiful, we sprouted.
Hoping,
The world would praise us,
Praise our strength and beauty.

Like oaks, we flourish.
Strong and beautiful, we flourish.
Thick-skinned,
Seasoned,
Ready to weather life.

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Abi Mize