"Alone Like a Tree"

I've lost myself to a notion of profession
As days wear on, we grow old, but aging isn't steady
short bursts of change twist our minds
We define getting old by contrasting it to the past
The less childlike we are, the more mature we become
But who's to say we weren't better off then,
in youth we judge more, we don't have stereotypes to assume
we judge more fair
with age we finally grasp the years our childhood dreams were waiting for
We get out of the house
We escape immediate parental ridicule
and we bend to society
and we forget our dreams and assertions of our old self
Life can't only be the awesome when it is new
Look to the trees, as they have been here for centuries
Do trees grow bored?
They prefer to stand alone
The forest is a battle for the highest branch
We battle more quickly and ravagingly
Trees do not kill their world as they grow
but they do race
And they prefer to stand alone
As years come by, do we prefer to stand alone?
People are married, perhaps, but in "young love."
If we reproduced as a tree
Would we still be wedded?
When we note a unity between man and wife the next thing, almost logically, is to note children

We tell the children to dream
and chase those dreams
In our wild imaginations we'll make halfsteps to these dreams
Friends will part ways
Close friends
for dreams that don't end up happening
And we geographically stand alone
As we grow old, like the tree
Except we expire first, and our mere existence doesn't provide wood or shelter.
Unlike the tree.