A Love/Hate Relationship

Note: No disrespect or copyright infringement intended, merely an observation, an inspiration, and a mechanism for expressing my current emotional state.

If Joyce Kilmer were allergic:

Trees

I THINK that I shall never see
A poem lethal as a tree.

A tree whose only goal to sneeze
Pollen ‘to earth's flowing breeze;

A tree, as I, to God doth pray,
For another breath, another day;

A tree, that in summer makes
Air I breathe; it, in irony takes;

Upon whose bosom snow, now is freezing;
‘Ere the Season, I’m free from wheezing,

To coexist? the cure, tis plain
We intimately live with rain.

Poems are played by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.