Conker

Growing high above the ground
From where I can look around
While my brothers continue to grow
Before we drop down below
As the wind rustles leaves
We will soon be cast free
Left to fall to the floor
Where we hope to be found
Claimed by a happy soul
Instead of rotting into a hole
But for the moment we gently sway
As the breeze continues merrily
While our skins become thick and green
And spikes protrude as sharp as sin
Far below the children play
Looking up expectantly
But I am nestled among the leaves
Hoping that they will pick me