Hear This Tree, This Plea

I supply the air you breathe;

Without me you would perish.

Your betrayal cuts me deep,

My love you should cherish.

You slash off parts of me

With hardly any thought.

This murder shows only profit,

But my life you have not bought.

When the heat bears down,

I offer the shade you crave.

No thanks do I recieve,

For I am but a slave.

I helped you provide,

Helped prove you're a man.

Then you asked for more,

And thus it began.

If I could speak the language

That you would understand,

I would warn you sir,

Your ego is too grand.

I am taken for granted,

You do not seem to notice.

Soon, I'll have nothing left to give,

Then this will be named: injustice.

I hope when I'm gone,

And there're no air left,

You die a slow and painful death,

Regretting the life you bereft.