You dare to drape tinsel on my fresh-cut tree
Synthetic silver strands, in clumps, no less.
Tinsel carries no memories but a
Bitter taste of gall
I miss my cat
She always knew
What to do with an unsavory morsel
Did I say sense?
Dversepoets.com Monday quadrille. The word is tinsel. I could go places, keeping it light, (sort of)
I hate tinsel. I love cats.