The Wordsmiths Book 2021

Oak Tree

Soaring. I feel free the gentle breeze bushing past my cheeks the warm sun rays shedding golden light on me. and in the world below, I see a beautiful meadow of Luscious tall trees. they are all the exact same height with the same colour and thickness. then, in the corner of my eye I see it: the speckled white oak tree taller than the rest. but it seems distant: like an outcast the colourful splash in a sea of black and white.

then I hear it: the low rumbling of destruction and death. it does the unspeakable: tears the tall beautiful oak tree down and splinters It into ashes and scraps, broken fragments of its old life. the wood cutter chose to cut down the tallest tree. the other normal, average ones remain alive and happy. soon the tall oak tree gets replanted but it learns from its mistake it suppresses its growth, wills itself to fit in

because if it soars above everyone else it will fall faster than everyone else and will be alone once more. now it is the same:

normal average it fits the description The description it was never meant to fill. it is still not happy it’s still alone. then a tiny flower emerges from the thriving grass: a forest daisy beautiful and small. the oak tree gazes at the flower It pities the daisy

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