Under water like under trees
the branches sway to the rhythm of the breeze

the sun shines through at certain spots
which reflect the myriad of my thoughts

which one of these spots am I?
I have a void nothing can fill
I'll be chasing these spots until I die
but in the chase I've lost the thrill

Where do I belong? Who is just like me?
These trees are what I most envy

They are so well rooted and firm
Thy all resemble one another

No matter how tall, short, thick, thin, they all fit in

I love these trees
They don't discriminate against me

I wish I could be among them
I wish I fit in

They are all tied to a spot on this earth
While I float freely like driftwood at sea

I doubt I belong anywhere
I doubt I have roots

At least my roots were inbred and my growth faulted
I stalled and my resemblance of the others halted

I am the branch that grows back toward the ground