This year’s Christmas tree
Carries dears and drops
And spheres from
Last years Christmas tree
Freed from the dust of Time
They were recovered
By flattering the air
That dust takes off and
Lands;
Eventually
Dears glitter and wink
Overthink to shine
And appear to be
Unrealistically mine
I belief this tree in its naked form
Would be way more loveable
than reformed
But this child called culture
Grew up to make an (en)lighted tree what we undertake
And so I take pretend to receive
In spite of my moral belief
That holydays like Christmas are
Supposed to be more than we see
Its enjoyment we share
More than anything above,
it’s about
(Now call me cheesy)
Love