Tree Faced


Christina Brady , Staff Writer

Trunk faced,

sleeping with his mask…

You can see it through his eyes.


With a mole,

Those lips

They talk so sly.


He’s trunk faced,

Tree faced,

Made out of lies.


He’s junk-mail,


A three faced sigh.


He’s a frozen body.

Real eyes realize

He’s not a real guy.


And maybe mention something 

Of how he never dies.