Dead Pair

A small and stunted, frightened tree,

Who didn’t grow past five foot three.

Young and fragile, she was know,

As the pear tree all alone.

When the skylight had gone black,

She was scared she’d get attacked.

Her mind would quickly go astray, 

Making stories of dismay.

She’d shake her roots throughout the day,

In fear that danger would come play.

“Do you know the yummy pears,

You could be making if you cared?”

Asked the gruffy-looking bear

Who just longed for a juicy pear. 

But Pear would shut her ears and shout:

“Get away you big fat sprout!”

So the bear would walk away,

His broken dream in disarray.

There’s truly nothing great to say,

About the way Pear shooed away,

Anyone who would’ve stayed,

Were it not for her display.

Pear believed that she was weak,

With a future meek and bleak,

So she couldn’t – or she wouldn’t–

Grow a pair of pears she shouldn’t.

Pear did not want to be sighted, 

By anyone who was excited,

So Pear decided to stay cold,

Or so that is what we are told,

And never grew anything more,

Then whispers of a dream untold,

That’s now dead on the floor.

So when she found the sky was blue,

And there was nothing else to clue,

And everything she thought she knew,

Turned out to be made out of glue.

This is when she tried to grow

Just a few small pair of pears.

But ended up with nothing true,

Only compost with black goo.

Then she realized suddenly,

She never took a sudden leap.

But now it was too late to change.

Her time had come without exchange.

Since she thought she’d stayed the same,

The thought of leaving never came.

Oh how surprised she must’ve been

When Death took out its hand and said:

“You’re already three parts dead.”

No one noticed, no one cared

No one missed her, no one declared:

“Well that pear tree really loved to dare!”

For all the fear and all the risk,

Pear left earth without a miss.

Pear had gone against her nature,

And alone she knew no nurture.

As a pear tree with no pears, 

Who was she really, could we dare?

And should we really even care? 

When she left, oh when she left,

All she left was but a pair, 

Of moldy, dying pears.

But that is all that we are told

As no one else knows nothing more

Of the tree that died alone.