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

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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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