I am very much like the tree in front of me.
It has gnarled roots,
With verdant, green leaves.
It is unbearable with these attributes.

However, there awaits a pleasure,
In the occasional flower.
It blooms beautifully, thieves
Bumble around for hours.

The blossoms like possums,
Have many grotesque features.
The blooms are lies
Told from a knave, that terrible creature!

The beauty is fake, I ache!
Efficacy is only presented
To hide the hideousness that dies
Inside, how demented!

The bees I see
Are proof that suits
Hide up its sleeves,
For the tree always had terrible attributes.