chewed lips
broken fingernails
dead ends dyed purple
escaping glitter
ripped Christmas sweaters
strawberry crepes
dog eared pages
blue nail polish
reused bags
dampened floors
loft-house cookies
over-baked pie
scarred limbs
screaming voices
unopened presents
bones cold and aching
whimpering dogs
blinds drawn tight and shut
sleepless nights
smoking candles
dreamless lives
welcome
it's Christmas Eve
-
Author:
Kinsey Peterson (
Offline) - Published: December 1st, 2022 11:14
- Comment from author about the poem: At what point was Christmas just a day on a calendar?
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 22
- User favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek.
Offline)
Comments2
This will be the first Christmas in many years that I will not be volunteering to work the night shift at Oasis House Night Shelter in the Middle off England .. If I listed the reasons for not being able to do it this year, I would probably bore the pants of you .. But duty calls me elsewhere this Christmas eve ... Your poem today is excellent Joan & more than adequately captures the loneliness and despair that for so very many go hand in hand with this so-called Festive Season ....... I hope yours will be better than you presently might imagine it may be .. and will almost certainly be for many around the globe .... Neville
Thank you Neville. Your replies always give me something to look forward to when I write.
yes, for a ridiculously large amount of people
there is nothing festive, about the festive season
(pink's, 'family portrait'
just comes to mind reading your words)
thanks for sharing, stay strong!
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