I am trying to write a poem about a tree,
I look outside and there it is, another tree,
There are trees everywhere, really,
Can you tell that i have never been good at writing
What other people want me to write?
My pen wanders away before i can corral it,
Always directions to go other than the one I have chosen.
Right. Back to the tree. Let’s imagine our tree, shall we?
Imagine our tree stretching up, stretching down,
It must be painful for the tree to be constantly stretched
Out like that. Am I using simile? Metaphor? Personification?
Am I comparing the tree to me? You decide. After all,
It is your poem. No, i insist. Take it. It’s all I have left to give.
Never mind the devices, let’s talk about cutting down the tree,
Lets talk about feeling the wood splinter
Underneath your fingers, and running your hand over
Rings upong rings,
I look outside and there it is, another tree,
There are trees everywhere, really,
Can you tell that i have never been good at writing
What other people want me to write?
My pen wanders away before i can corral it,
Always directions to go other than the one I have chosen.
Right. Back to the tree. Let’s imagine our tree, shall we?
Imagine our tree stretching up, stretching down,
It must be painful for the tree to be constantly stretched
Out like that. Am I using simile? Metaphor? Personification?
Am I comparing the tree to me? You decide. After all,
It is your poem. No, i insist. Take it. It’s all I have left to give.
Never mind the devices, let’s talk about cutting down the tree,
Lets talk about feeling the wood splinter
Underneath your fingers, and running your hand over
Rings upong rings,
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