dead christmas tree

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
a dead christmas tree tells his story
(where i live the boy scouts come and pick up our dead trees after christmas)

Submitted: January 05, 2012

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Submitted: January 05, 2012



my branches hold no more winter.

they do not spring, in the spring.

and all of the people who once dressed me up fancy, stay inside and pack my clothes into a box,

my delicate earrings stored safely in the basement.

im left alone on the cold concrete,

like a homeless man downtown. everybody walks by but nobody looks.

so far from my naturality,

until some boy scouts me away.

hauls me in a truck that runs on liquid to easily kill me.

now my body is chopped and hacked up, and i become an organ doner.

to be donated to burning in the pit,

warming somebody who is still living.

because all i am, to the living, is dead holiday cheer.

dead until next year.

a dead christmas tree.


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