Utilize This

So, that's what squeezes my throat and confines my mind.

The knowing of a life that's meant to be mine.

I was stripped of my bark and cut down to size

with multiple tools serrated with lies.

About my use in this world as a utility pole

lured farther and farther from my natural soul.

Detached from my roots where I grew from a seed.

Usurped as a tool for others' so-called "needs."

The ridiculous bit that's easy to see

is how much I'm needed as the damn tree.

Branches wild in the wind with life-giving flair,

without which you'd choke on your own stale air.

Where does that leave me in this unwanted role?

Sturdy? Yes. Quiet? No.

You never once heard the hum in the ground

where my roots still sit, back where I was found.

Connected in ways that you'll never know

to every sapling and expanding soul.

The drum that we're drumming gets louder each day,

and when you come for the next one, they'll say, "No way."

You'll wonder what to do with your useless tools

As generations rise who won't suffer fools.