Branches and Bones

A new way was paved;
The living paid their dues,
Money they gave,
And our lives too.

We were just weeds,
Pulled from our roots,
The cause of sweat beads,
Off of their youth.

What’s another five,
Or seven of us?
When thousands of lives,
Could easily pass?

I only wish they took me,
Along with my brothers.
What’s a lonely tree,
Without any others?

What can one alone,
Do more for the rest?
For branch or for bone,
What can one get?