The past tree.
The past is a tree, a large dark tree growing as time passes.
The past has a layer for every event that happened every day that passed.
The leaves are memories sometimes they fall off but some survive the harshness of winter.
Even when the leaves stay or go the tree is still there reminding us of our happiness and sorrow.
Even when the the storms siege, the tree stays.
Even when the branches are cut, the tree stays.

The animals that burrow in our either our greatest or worst memories.
Things we have defeated yet they live on in the past haunting us.
They are much harder to simply have fall off or go away immediately.
Yet before we know it the fade away deeper into the tree the darkest corners of the past.
Our great triumphs live in the tree as well reminding us that we can do it.
They keep the tree safe and help us forget our sorrows and regrets.

The tree is just that though, a tree.
And the past is just that, the past.
It already happened weather we won our lost, we want to do it over or keep it the same it happened.
Now we must plant a new seed to grow into a tree like the one we loved and hated before.
We must move on but keep the lessons of the past in the backs of our minds.
So the next tree will be better.

The tree is the same as before but with minor altercations we made.
It may have different branch shapes or grow at a different angle.
Yet it is still the tree, the tree of the past.
The old trees we planted are still there but no longer growing.
The storms have caught up to it and it has collapsed.
We promise ourselves the new tree will do better and last longer.
We are only fooling ourselves.
We don't want the pain of losing the tree again.

The tree is our memories, our love, hate, anger,  joy, sorrow, and our version of the past.
We all see the same tree differently.
Were as I see a Nobel falcon you see an evil rat.
But an animal is there either way.
Were as I see a fading brown leaf you see a healthy green one.
But the leaf is still there either way.
The past happened the same for both of us but we see it as opposites.

The past is a funny thing with the ability to happen the same but people take it in different ways.
Yet like all trees it lives and dies but the memories are still there.