Jason Klaiber Poet Quatrain

The Peril of Trees

Up in his branches?
Down in his toes?
Where's his brain hidin'?
Nobody knows.

You cut him, he bleeds
You chop him, he dies
You burn him, he crumbles
You tease him, he cries.

Whatever would cause you
to laugh at a tree?
Do you know he could mush you,
Insignificant flea?

Perhaps he can't run,
Perhaps he can't walk,
Perhaps he can't sing,
Perhaps he can't talk.

But he hears all you say,
And he sees all you do,
And it angers him greatly,
To be laughed at by you.

You may think he's funny,
You may think he's cute,
You may think he's ugly
And stupid to boot.

But that is no reason
To doubt its not true.
In more ways than one
He's exactly like you.

He knows about sadness,
He knows about pain,
He's cried in the sunshine,
And laughed in the rain.

But tease if you have to
And mock them as well,
Just remember they see you,
And paybacks are hell.

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