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Some are Majestic,
And some will grow lean
Some tower above all the others dominating the scene.
Some will be pictures
Some maybe just frames
Some with deep roots, some never seen again
Some will suffer
Some will thrive
Some cover the skyline, blocking out the sky
Some line the streets
Steering a path
Shedding light on the questions you ask.
Some will blossom
Some wither and die
Some you will find only half alive
Some with histories
Some with no names
Breathing for the planet and all of its shame
Some prime for growth
Some with different barks
Some with inner circles, different creeds and different castes
Some remain majestic
Some crash in a rage
All at different stages, defining our age