The Poison Tree Poem by James McLain

I became irate with my friend,
My anger expressed, so it came to an end.
With my foe, I felt the same,
But held back, and my wrath did inflame.

I nourished my anger with my fears,
Both day and night, with my tears.
I warmed it with deceitful smiles,
And crafted wiles with cunning styles.

It grew incessantly, day and night,
Until it bore a shiny fruit, bright.
My foe saw it, shining there,
And knew the fruit was mine to bear.

One night, he snuck into my garden fair,
When the pole was veiled, and none aware.
In the morning, I saw with glee,
My foe under the tree, no longer free.