Steal from yourself poem


I am made of wood
Wood is made from trees
Paper is made from wood
and wood was made for me
I am a home for a bird
I am used to keep you warm
When he lights the first match
Fire dances on top of me
It feels like a tickle
When the sun hits my spine
I grow pine
When the wind hits my bark
I start to talk
Their is no one I'd rather be than me


I came across this poem randomly. Free writing is a bit difficult but I think I managed pretty well.