HeartwoodBy: Me, Ashley Zetterman Everyone has a soul that is slowly getting colder Like the heartwood in trees, An obsolete that's growing older-- One more apparition of an annual ring, The dark, dense tannins; It'll come in the spring. But you are still living as everyone knows. It's evident in the sapwood That persistently grows. It's as essential to a life As blood is to ours. It makes us rife As we grow older with hours. Our bodies are drug down from years of days, But there is still something beautiful; Our life still stays. The scanty leaves on the branches, How they slowly sway, But they show a gleam of light, Hence every radiant ray. There are some things in your life That you keep confidential, And the only words that express them Are those written with a pencil. The trees cannot write, But they can hold our jot; We will soon die, But the heartwood can never rot.
