Amber Tears

Rooted, she screams, the old oak tree
A smooth maple she’s demanded to be

Metallic teeth scrape and scald her skin
As if to discover perfection within

Denying her rough, fragmented scales
A sorrowful sap begins to trail

Trickling down to her shuddering base
Haunted amber tears forever encase

He’ll find no pleasure with the saw
When she’s reduced to red and raw

He’ll take his tools and venture on
To find his smooth and flawless one

While she remains, pale and thin

Her wounds still stinging in the wind.