Oh dear tree god,

The bacteria spread to the ground

Through leaf, stem, root, and pound.

Whatever can I do to avoid this 

Sickness that runs deep?

I'm terrified and loosing sleep.

My family did not ask for this.

We did not know, we were in bliss. 

Abuse of the land is something foreign to me.

I do not understand it because it shouldn't be.

All I wanted was a little spinach free of virus.

Is that such a hard thing to give us? 

A Fickle High Tech Farmer is what we have today.

They use crap we can't pronounce for their play.

The only thing growing in parts around here

Is the price it costs for poorly produced food and beer.

Oh tree god, I don't want a lot

Just a little help with this pot.

I placed plastic containers by the sill

In hopes that I can sow and till

Something from a seed.

But a plant I can eat would be nicer than a weed.

I want an edible harvest grown from sweat that is true .

Sweat that doesn't want anyone's skin to turn blue.

Please, oh please, let them pop up

If this works, I might be able to make some ketchup!

I might even be able to have a salad or two.

That would be nicer than eating a foreign glue.

I hope the sun shines down on this dirt,

And makes these seeds spurt.

I pray and put in my trust

That my hands will make them robust.

Thank you tree god for listening to me.

I hope my long winded speech agrees with thee.