Bottled Trees

Match the heritage to the disease, And We'll all see a translucent tree Out of surprising bottles It’s all the mistakes, That seem to illuminate the leaves Streaming mindlessly with lines That embodies the stereotype If I line up All the left over Christmas lights Along the branches Of jagged glass, Will my blood shed serenity And knowledge to the problem? Each night I paint the roots Another color, So I won’t repeat, The artistry of concern