Central Luzon

Why do they cut me, Lord? 

(by Rommel N. Angara)

O Lord, I am a little tree

     That brings forth luscious fruits.

I fill the heaven’s tears with glee

     While they caress my roots.

I freshen, Lord, the whistling air

     Which greets me everyday.

I hug the birds with tender care.

     Oh! Here in me they stay.

I feed men some delicious food.

     I give them what they need.

I furnish them with sturdy wood,

     But, Lord, they show me greed.

Now it is I whom they destroy.

     O Lord, I am confused.

See how they treat me like a toy.

     Look! I am much abused.

Why do they step on me like trash?

     Why do they bring me woes?

Why do they turn me into cash?

     Why do they act as foes?

Tell me: Why do they make me cry?

     Why do they cause me pain?

Why do they cut me, Lord? Oh! Why?

     O Lord, are they insane?

Lord, how can I get o’er my fear

     If men turn down my pleas?

Oh! How can I restore my cheer

     Before I rest in peace?