These trees of December
Over board,
Why can’t they be like normal trees,
Just be, and eat the co2,
Why do they need much make up,
And inside living.
They are kamikaze though,
Chopped off for the splay,
Evergreen just for twelve days,
Sold by boy scouts and service stations.
And the heritage?
No fir in Bethlehem,
Saint Nick from the North perhaps,
Or Russian,
Yet, we flourish them each year,
And they make us feel all the better for it.