I saw adults walking around,
Holding shovels and seedlings.
I saw them heading to the grass field.
“Today is March 2nd!” They exclaimed.
 
I frowned,
Moving my feet.
 
“No…
No more saplings should be brought here.”
 
I Turned around,
And heading to the opposite road.
 
I grabbed a tree,
Pulling it up as hard as I could,
Until my blue vines protruded out.  
 
Failed.
 
Looking at the few broken branches,
I sighed.
As if the past wounds could be exhaled as air.
 
I picked up the branch as if it was a mirror.  
“You the poor thing.”
 
At last,
The trunk was still standing,
But I was broken.