Song of the Tree-Haters (Poetry)

A tree in Spring began to sprout
so we got the surgeon to sort it out.
He hacked it back — a lesson to all
the tree’d no right to grow so tall.

Who wants the mess when the leaves drop?
It’s time we gave each one the chop.
They take up room — they’re in the way.
What good are trees? They’ve had their day.

Let’s trash the woods, the forests, too —
we’re sick of green’s so-common hue.
Let’s take a tip from the Amazons —
just slash and burn ’til they’re all gone.