Rigid Roots

It's only human nature
To crave something better,
To wonder why we're imperfect,
To hate everything wrong
And glorify everything right.

And we try, we strive,
We hope and pray
And will ourselves to be
Different, we rid ourselves
Of sources sick with
Self-consciousness,
And endorse the components
Of the ever elusive euphoria
Of comfortable self-acceptance.

But though the tree may
Shed its leaves
And strip itself bare,
Later to rebirth itself anew,

The tree is still a tree,
With all the imperfections of before,
With all the beauty of before,
Still the tree it was before.