A crooked tree grew crookedly.
A symbol for all to see
that things were not as good as they could be.
A gust of wind, a lightning flash
was enough to send the tree crashing
to the path where it would cause
me no more anguish or misery.
So i called the council to see
what could be done.
They said they would send someone,
an arborist, a specialist of trees.
He came and looked and got the axe.
After a series of good whacks
the aforementioned tree lay on the path,
measuring its length on the ground.
From that experience I have found
I won’t put up with things that aren’t up to snuff.
Don’t put up with inadequacy.
Get the arborist out to axe your crooked tree.
