The Young Tree

Among the tall ones, it sleep innocently
Among the short ones, it stands calmly
It's leaves were jovial, rustling steadily
It's roots were just, untouched by anyone.

Some close to it, had suffocated
Some close to it, had suffered
Some close to it, had slept
Some close to it, had surrendered.

When they saw it, they wanted to touch
When they saw it, they wanted to turn
That they needed it much
That they could not munch.

Their sly tongue,  hissed to lick
Their inner soul, wished only lust
Only to have, a minute closer
Only to have, a moment to carry

They offer to have it pampered
They confess to have it pruned
As time moves on, they tame
As time moves on, they take

Only to pull, those immature fruits
Only to promise its, mannerless favour
It's flowers were tumbled down
It's buds were quickly destroyed

Another saw carrier, gives a heavy bribe
That they go away, from being broken
After sucking, the fresh juicy sap
It's whistling is made quiet, forever quenched.

They swagger away, for another to devour
They camouflage, into another destroyer
Who will save it, from  their demonic lust?
Who will suffer, for it to get justice?