Small at first, almost beautiful
Many that now see the light
Not enough wine in the barrel to fill the cracks

What happens to the big ones that don''t care to heal now
No leaves to sprout, no flowers to bloom
Does it owe the soil that fed it for years now

Soil is moist of tears of lost love
The tree has shed now
Forever dead or waiting for a new bloom now

Cracks. Cracks in the bark. Cracks in my skin now.