Christmas Tree Story

A new classic.

A few weeks after Christmas, Jack and Stacey decided
Their Christmas tree joy had mostly subsided
They looked ‘round their home, the glittering mess
Shining and sparkling, a festive abscess

“I think it’s time to put this stuff away,
And get rid of the tree. Let’s just do it today.”
Jack was not wrong, and Stacey agreed
They’d not let their persistent tree guilt impede

“I just feel so bad,” Stacey said with a sigh
“Throwing it on the curb, left there to die.”
“It’s already dead,” said Jack not quite believing
Though his general “maleness” helped in deceiving

They packed up their baubles, their string lights, their cheer
To aid in the process, they each had a beer
Their box overfilled with Christmas galore
“How did this even fit in there before?”

(It didn’t.)

Then for the tree, the last standing remnant
Of Christmas joy, it was clearly most eminent
Difficult and messy, it was such a pain
To carry downstairs, to put out in the rain

Stacey frowned to see it abandoned and wet
So Jack tried to instill a different mindset
“It fulfilled its purpose, it’s not sentient.
No reason for me nor you to lament.”

They retreated inside, to their now-joyless home
What was once full of color, suddenly monochrome
Though to each other they did not admit
A knot sat in their stomachs, right there in the pit

Outside the tree lay, freezing cold in the rain
Why would its owners cause it so much pain?
It cried and it moaned, though no one could hear it
Trapped inside the tree, a glorious spirit

It waited and waited, o’ercome with heartache
“My family, they must…must have made a mistake.”
It was getting harder to hold onto hope
The night getting colder, the tree could not cope

Jack and Stacey sat comfortably, watching TV
Their minds far removed from their abandoned tree
Outside it lay dying; their hearts empty, all told
Who was less sentient? Who was more cold?

“Is it getting darker? What is that awful din?
Is it from outside, or is it from within?”
The tree tried to remember happier times
Sentenced to death, it committed no crimes

If only its family knew inside that bark
Those needles, now brittle, its pain now quite stark
Held a beautiful soul, a pure love so rare
Or maybe they did know and just did not care

The garbage men rumbled through town the next morning
They manhandled tree’s corpse without even a warning
No matter, out there it had heaved its last breath
And what escaped it in life, it would not find in death

The end.