Rain, rain falling down
Down, down on the gound
All the birds go in the trees
They don't like the rain, you see.

This is wonderful, wonderful! Be the bird. You are the bird. Sacrifice yourself to abandoned family values....

This cockroach is now at the top of the tree, while the worm is still on the ground.

The birds will sweep that on the ground. The only things that will eat it is pigeons, and that's not what you are trying to attract. Also, it will grow up in the yard as weeds.

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

My first priority is to finish above rather than beneath the ground.