The Damson TreeMature

I was standing in a field and it smelt like shit,

The cows didn't care to spare a bit,

Of grass,

Where I could safely plant my ass.


As I sat on a shaded, moss covered stone,

I realised that I was on my own,

My stomach craved a bitter treat,

The blackberries were far too sweet,

And then I spied a damson tree,

My waxen face lit up with glee,

At last,

I stood and dusted off my ass.


In my greed, my haste to arrive,

I forgot that I needed to make it alive,

In order to feast with bitter delight,

On the very fruit that has caused my plight,

The damson tree was there,

Tall in the filthy cow shit air.


I reached the base of the tree with a cry,

And a lonely bird shat in my eye,

Why does nature hate me so?

I should have left this field long ago,

But for some strange reason today,

Something somewhere forced me to stay,

And I climbed with gusto,

Little did I know.


Damson trees are evil things,

Don’t approach them unless you have wings,

Or a ladder, or rope, or maybe a hacksaw,

If only I foresaw.

That which trapped me upside down,

Swinging in the wind like a hanging clown,

Laughing and crying and not knowing why,

Rubbing the bird shit, out of my eye.


The damson tree, it stands there still,

It took parts of my flesh and my strength of will,

But it can never destroy my life, my hope,

Though it tore strips from my yellow coat.

The End

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