My Christmas tree has
only green lights; not
through planning on my part
but through fate’s loving hand
The Christmas tree looks
At me
Through emerald lenses
I am bathed in green light:
The smile on my face,
The twinkle of my eyes,
is reflected in
Green ornament balls
And the garlands of time
I fly away in a green rainbow
To places only I have seen
Inside my emerald Christmas tree
Utopia is an individual
Experience
Which is why it is so
Difficult to visit
through means common to all
By Homeless with a Laptop, That is My Name
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