Is It Poetry - Hidden Within The Tree

Time passes this flock of trees grow high,
strait and tall normal all would think.
Yet within one a special heart to see but
from the outside one would not.
Days turned in to months the years rolled
by clinging to each other
did these trees.
Light to the floor and roots the grain of life for all
soft and loamy was the measure.
Blight strikes felled many thus they are hearts
effected.
But the one

Is It Poetry

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