If this white tree could only stand and talk.
It would say, I’d be dancing right now if I could walk.
I fought in America’s Independence, and was a tree for snipers
They would sit on me and use me as a platform for aimed fire.
One shot down a general, the other shot at British horsemen
But weren’t those two different battles, The tree replied It’s not Important.
They took parts of me to make the Executive Mansion.
The White House, I said, It replied Son houses cannot be handsome.
They then hit me in the side and made the presidential desk.
I buried my head in my hands because this story sounded a mess.
But the tree continued because in its mind, it was always there.
The one thing that always struck me as always unfair.
I received no mention, garnered no monies for pension.
Even though I deserved to be well-paid for all this tension.
Hey wait a minute, I protested, the White House is further south.
The tree roared, It is the Executive Mansion I tell you to watch your mouth.
Put more respect on the place where our president will reside
Of all the trees that gave themselves, I am the only one that undied.
I yelled, I’m pretty sure that undied is not a word, anymore than Executive Mansion is.
The tree then shed a tear and said, of all the places I know it has the most unprettylessness
I groaned and I wondered how a tree could be so obsessed with a home.
Then I realize that the tree was out here all abandoned and alone.
So I asked, How were you able to make the table that could seat 150 people.
I swear that as the tree talked about triumph it could not have looked more regal.