Does this work as an iambic poem?

Sorry, this is the real poem, ANSWERS.COM wouldn't let me save it:

Does this work as an iambic poem:

This tree is my being robbed of a toy,

I feel so bored, sitting here each day.

My friends always can look so bright with joy,

But my lights are as dull as a grey May.

What's this, though? I hear such a little laugh,

Someone's talking to me, it's my tree!

How cute, his voice is like notes on a staff,

And we talk of people with cones of cream.

We talk of how the people look at us,

We talk of nice new places far away.

Now I say that I like being on Gus,

He's never too old for any good play.

This tree of mine can dance like a wat'r Sprite,

We tap through the mall, shedding such nice light.?