Day, weeks, and months of these 

broken men, they grow like trees

they reach for a sky they can never obtain

struggling for life and living in pain

their arms branch out for someone to love

but hope flies away like the white of a dove

They stand strong through winds and they embrace the rain

but they have ice in their hearts and a hurricane brain

everyday is a storm that ends in dispair

They struggle to breathe from the smoke in the air

The world cuts them down to use and abuse them

But before they recover more evil pursues them

They only want life and to grow tall in peace

But there is no peace for the broken of trees.