Sometimes I get jealous of trees

Sometimes I get jealous of trees.
Because they never have to ask themselves, where am I going?
They’re in one place, their whole life, and they don’t really have a choice.
So I guess there’s no point in wondering if they’re in the right place.
As far as they’re concerned, it’s the only place.
Maybe I should be glad I have a say in where I’m going to be.
Or do I?