A team? Could be
Under the old oak tree
That once was a bonsaï
That realized could flee
And soar up to the sky
For when the soil is deep
With nutrients is laden
The dormant seed, asleep
Her blooming now will trade in
Under that old oak tree
I sit our sorry selves
Fragmented, glowing glee
Unread books on the shelves
What good could come from meeting
The trio now is known
And time is running, fleeting
For them to share a throne