Inspired by three lovely ladies, We — Dickinson, Plath, and Me.
A Tree I am
Small but strong
My branches bend in the wind
They sway rustling a soulful song
These roots run deep
My leaves sometimes fall
But never a wind nor tornado
Never a strike of lightning will make
Nor a roar of thunder will shake
NO — None could create the worst thing of all
POISON. It drips salaciously from your lips
One drop is all it takes
One drop drips and death it makes
No other choice is given
One drop — One chop
The Tree that is Me becomes the pages your precious books are printed upon
The pages for the notes you play your music from
The very same pages I wrote this poem on
So, I will NEVER really be gone.
You Lil Dickens 
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