Author's note: This poem is my attempt at a sonnet, although I would not go so far as calling it one because of the flawed metre. It's about a tree that has defied nature's one crucial law, according to the narrator. Thus, sequence. It's also about the selfish, chaotic and unreasonable behavior of humanity, and how no rebels are allowed, but like all poems, what it really means is up to the reader. (I felt the need to say this).

A little patch of green: the cloth that hides
The trees from sight. From what I see, this tree;
This rebel tree defies the law which ties
The world with knots. The rebel tree is free.

Its bark is worn from nature's tired try.
Its roots are firm; they hold it to the sand.
Its breathing branches reach up for the sky.
The oldest tree; the wisest in the land.

It seems symbolic for humanity.
And broken patterns, and insanity,
And I am glad it has been found by me
I will cut it down and keep it safely.

For the unnatural rebel tree, if found,
Will be condemned to hell and burned to ground!

Written by WaveDivisionMultiplexer
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