TREE POEM


WHATS SUGAR LIKE
WHERE DID THE SUN GO
STOP CRAWLING ON ME
I AM TICKLISH
WHAT HAPPENS
WHEN YOU ARE TICKLISH
BUT YOU CANT SQUIRM
I GUESS THIS IS ME
THIS IS MY LIFE
I WILL HAVE TO
GET USED TO THE TORTURE
OF MY EXISTENCE
WHATS CAFFEINE LIKE
I THINK SOMEONE
SPILLED COFFEE IN MY ROOTS
LAST NIGHT