This is a poem, that recently when I've been thinking about it I gave it a beat in my head. So I figured I might be able to use it for a song, so here goes. I need a title though, and this is one of my first 'decent' poem/songs, so it's not that good. (And that's why it rhymes.)


Being tired doesn't mean you're ever gonna sleep
Because the root of that problem is far too deep
Looking at brown leaves won't tell you why
The worms in it's roots are making it die.

So you look at the surface, the parts that you see,
But the things you change there will never help me
It's the worms in the roots that kill in the night
Without killing the problem you can't make a thing right

And the problem won't be helped by being shared
Cause the problem's a problem in ways they've not dared
To think could live in the roots from the seed
they planted in the ground in almost greed
when they suspected it'd turn out just like they planed
In a very different world and on very different land
And in this different time and different place
Was first born what would make me a disgrace.

In the dark of the night and the light of the moon
I was changed by the catch of breath and a swoon
By brown hair and eyes of a misspelled blue
And a scene once forget but none-the-less true
And that's what put all the worms into me
The terrifying cause of this tired, brown tree.