The snow has fallen
The leaves have followed
The temperature has dropped
The people have crowded
Searching for a tree
The people look hard
Every little detail
It all counts
The size of this one, too big
The size of this one, too small
The shape of this one, too weird
The shape of this one, too straight
On the evergreen
The lights hang
On the fir and pine
The ornaments hang
Who will they pick?
Do they have enough space?
After all I've grown
They ignore me
In the end, cut down
Razor sharp, a chainsaw
Branches and needles, shaken off
The base of my trunk, split apart
