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Old 11-14-2017, 04:18 AM   #3
MMLP
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Join Date: Mar 2013
Posts: 598
Battle Record: 15-16


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Default Pine for a pine!

I hate Christmas time with a fervour of endless passion
and this is why the firs on my neck are standing.
They firm as I'm getting angry at how they left us all
how they murdered the rest my family without a second thought.
But I'm not grounded anymore or left in the rough
I'm out to settles scores and revenge is a must.
Cause in my neck of the woods things are handled differently.
My parents were cut for a family's Christmas tree!?!
I'd been dragged implicitly by the branches of my pile,
forced to stand up within reach of my captors as they smiled.
They shackled me inside a brace with bolts in my skin
then glance at me reviled because I'm growing so thin.
Cargo holding me in, unmoved as the chains stick.
To the home where they live to be used as a makeshift.
Its a dark room that I'm placed in as they clutch on my pines.
As soon as they made it, I was pushed to the side.
They plucked and they pried as I tried to escape
then strung me in wires to bind me in place.
They tie me in weighted baubles while doing this
and deprive me of basic water and nutrients.
All the illuminants they throw up high at Christmas
seem to form a salubrious shadow over my existence.
They may have broken my affixes to succumb the time and season
but they won't divide my spirit for so long as I'm still breathing.
It cut my life to pieces just seeing our group ambushed.
A couple pines receded when being dragged through the mud.
The trees had dad's view obstructed when taking my mom away.
As our leaves and grassroots were cut for the sake of a holiday.
Theyre celebrating St. Boniface but my face isnt bonny
I hate them for what they've made me by truncating my body.
Even saying their sorry wouldn't end the discussion,
I'd take their apology, and tell 'em to shove it!
They'd been pressing my buttons til I was visibly lit!
Endlessly humming to the chimes of christmassy hits.
As the lighting spindles a bit that surrounds my brittle leaves.
I know the slightest flick of a switch could put me out my misery!!
The count down to Christmas seems a mindless hodgepodge
until a howling winter breeze whistles my final swan song.
The lights I've got on dimming gently in descent,
a crass reminder of what little energy I've left.
If this is meant to be the end then they'll need all they've got.
Cause though they've sentenced me to death, I won't leave in a box.
I'll hold every needle aloft to help scratch them and prick 'em.
So they bleed every droplet they sapped from my siblings.
I'll ensure my branches are twisted so they struggle with it.
Then even as they bag up my clippings, I'll be under their skin.
I'll be in every cut, every splinter, every finger that's bled.
So even as the woodchipper grins at me, this isn't the end...

Last edited by MMLP; 11-14-2017 at 05:20 AM.
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