Foregone Conclusion

The finer components of eloquence have always eluded me,
And laughably so as I soon came to see,
And never yet have I managed to hold in my hand, a beautiful sunbeam or a fine grain of sand,
And the trees when they whisper are always too quiet, how I long that they'd stand up and speak up and riot,
And the fish as they swim as they please, on a whim,
Remind kite-fliers gently that there's more than the wind,
For life on the sea is as free as can be, all it takes is to look on and learn when you see,
That a heart made of stone is best left on its own, so listen to the trees as they whisper hushed pleas,
Else the foregone conclusion that you innocently missed, will be testified to by the scars on you wrists.