Author's note: I got the inspiration from this when I looked out of the window and saw a maple tree that's in the process of losing its color. (This IS Canada, after all). Again, big use of symbolism, so I beg you people not to tell me "Well written, but I don't quite see what this have to do with…" or comments like that. Thanks!
Maple Tree
Standing steady and tall,
Near the year's fall,
Was a great maple tree,
Half red, half green.
The highest point was red,
To others it would show.
The wounds where it bled,
Crimson would still grow.
But down at the base,
Was a cluster of green.
You could tell, simply with a gaze,
The life, the freedom, they bring.
They leave as dried tears,
For the winds to clear,
But they would return the following year,
Until then, feel no fear.
