Tree

When the seasonal greenery
Struggles to last
It's surely a sign
That Christmas has passed
And if it makes it through
The whole twelve days
It still sits with an air
Of general malaise

You see it browning
You see it wilting
Long arms drooping
And tall head tilting
Losing it's needles
Scatter by scatter
While too heavy baubles
Fall with a clatter

And it almost seems
To be unfair
To put it through
Such arboreal despair
Despite colour in the corner
That it's occupying
Day by day
It's slowly dying