TIS THE SEASON
It's time for Christmas trees and bright lights,
No Christmas color here, my world black N white.
Sunny Southern Cali, No chance of snow,
No Santa this year, he has no get up and go.
Broke no money to buy gifts and presents,
I think I might need some Anti-depressants.
No stuffing of stockings going on here,
Just another lonely day, will play it by ear.
No smiles, no laughter, silence thru out the house,
I'm cold and lonely and poor as a mouse.
No frosty the snowman outside my window sill,
Isolation and loneliness the coldness of a chill.
No cookies, no fudge, no Christmas pie,
No Saint Nick or a twinkling of an eye.
My sisters and friends make sure I have some gifts,
They stop by my spirit they try to lift.
All I can say it's been one hell of a year,
I dug down deep, can't find my Christmas cheer.
I say the sooner the year is gone the better,
This is my Christmas Dear John Letter.
TURBO1904
About this poem
Being alone and broke at Christmas
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Written on December 25, 2021
Submitted by Turbo1904 on January 03, 2022
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:02 min read
- 4 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | XX AA BB CC DD EE FF XX GG HH |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 974 |
Words | 203 |
Stanzas | 10 |
Stanza Lengths | 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2 |
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"TIS THE SEASON" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/119860/tis-the-season>.
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