Tree poem, feedback welcomed

I suppose I could make it rhyme more. Just a first draft though.
From my blog http://wretchedcycloneofbones.blogspot.com

Tree poem

Let's hear it for trees!
Most die as seeds,
or shoots eaten by sheep,
to then wait there, patiently
up to 900 years.
They don't take a year off to go backpacking
They don't move house every few months
saying they can't stand the way those Dutch Elms
steal all the sunlight
and wouldn't the riverbank be a much nicer
place to bring up our saplings?
They don't squirm at the prospect of pollarding -
limbs hacked off and stuck in a truck,
oozing sap – half as much as we do
at the prospect of say, redundancy.
If they get chopped down they don't fight back
All they make is wood and conkers
and they're happy with that.
All they eat is dirt.
They don't complain in the rain, all that can hurt
is a chainsaw or hurricane; all they do as they die
is creakily sigh.

They're quite happy to go fuck themselves.
Apart from a few weeks of coming petals,
tens of years of boredom and patience spent
as sensorily deprived as hostages – but
you'd never hear them on Leafbook bitching
about losing their chlorophyll each year
or 'I'm so old, I must sway a bit more,
get rid of some of these rings.'
The cold, the wet, the dry, the heat
they endure. Now make like a tree
and TTFU.