This is a rough draft, copied word-for-word out of my current journal. (Actually, I changed two lines; quality control.) It's extremely rough, but I wanna workshop it. I'm going to throw it up in the GotPoetry workshops most likely. But I'll take feedback here.

I think this has potential.

On Trees Leaving The Forest
You are no hollow tree
but believe me, you don't want to rot
I won't call "timber!" when your time comes to fall
I hope for your sake someone hears
because the other trees don't listen

I understand your roots run deep
and they're tangled like a box of miscellaneous cords
but what's so hard about stretching your branches?
like spreading thin wings, unbending wooden bones.
I left the forest, you can too!
Instead you undress every October,
stand bare in the first snow
while icicles drip from your fingertips.