All that seems to matter is what you look like
With world wanting to see how could we blame you
People are taken in by appearances so we transform
To be a spectacle to be observed
An inner need many have just to be adorned
To be put on display to twinkle and radiate
Christmas tree stature
Front of shop promotional
The flood into the heart as
a dozen gather to point and gaze
How could they blame you
You unfold like the male peacock
You feel the pull
Those that have looked for too long
sparks of their infatuation
catching on your dried branches
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