Inspired by my crappy haiku. GP, I hope you don't mind, but I'm biting off your technique. (I think you know what I mean.)

To answer your question:
The tree makes a noise
It's a shriek no one hears
It's the curdling poise
of an august Sequoya that's rotting inside,
absorbed by a pillow like sand drinks the tide
Lapping away, now and screaming with blights,
teaming with mites,
and beaming with lights
(The lights help me deal)
But, they bounced off your eyes, because they weren't real

To answer your question:
There's no healing balm
Nowhere in Gilead,
and not in a Psalm
A kiss of the palms is all holy and chaste
But, it honors a myth and it seems such a waste
to be wasting away, now and bleary with need,
weary of creed,
and teary with seed
(The proof helps me feel)
But, it washes away, because it's not real

To answer your question:
It's hard to be true
when you ask me a question
that answers to you
I wish I could know what to say when you're sad
I wish I could be the only to be had
Crumbling away, now and ashen like ruin,
scratching and chewing
a patch of undoing
(The truth is revealed)
And, it means not a thing, being true, being real

Many girls want to be carnal with me... because I am such a premium dancer!