I think that I shall never be
able to draw a freakin’ tree

I try and try, I sketch all day
from dawn to dusk to learn the way

But happy trees I do not get
I only end up in a sweat
with crumpled papers on the floor
and pencils embedded in the door

The air is blue with my frustration
I hope no child hears my narration

Maybe I’ll just cease to care
Can’t draw a tree

but I swear with flair.