Poe In Tree

I have dropped my pains on pages of poems, the ink in my pen treasures my groans,the quill is my sword, with edges sharp enough to sculpt the perfect picture, the quill is the only thing you got when those devils try to get ya, the only warmth when those men or women forget ya, I bet ya a million bucks and yes it sucks, but poetry is more than just writing, its healing, remedy of feeling, dealing with the worst of you, quenched the thirst of you, a doctor or a nurse to you, sometimes you get delusions and think it gave birth to you, as it pours on its immensity of worth on you, that's what enchanting words will do. One day I gave poe to a dying tree now it has grown it looks fine to me, boy oh boy the tree said to me, if it wasn't for your poe in tree another day I wouldn't have seen, but now I have STRONG roots running below city's a million feet strong and a billion feet long and I can stand to bear the blues jay on my branches, with songs all day long, I wrote his song it went like this poe in tree poe in tree gave ETERNAL bliss to thee, oh by the way, I am the tree saved by poe in tree poetry poetry