It seemed like I should

It seemed like I should

There was time

It was the holiday season

Christmas came to mind

It often does

Not always in a good way.

We have expectations

Of ourselves

I fail to meet mine.

Each time I close my eyes

Sad words are

Written on the underside

Of the lids

I have read them

A thousand times before.

The effort needed

To stay awake

Is less than it was

But the result is the same.

Wasted words

Scattered all over the floor

Badly written poems

Stuffed in the bin.

The best of me lies

With the rest of me

In a sorry heap

At the bottom of the stairs

Too tired to climb.

Christmas cheer

Eggnog and beer

It’s all the same

On your own.

Pass the sick bag

The doom-mongers at the door

Sing for their supper

Whilst pocketing the change

From the collection plate.

Hypocrites and sinners

Love a mince pie

Isn’t it always the way

To go

Head first

Into a snowdrift

Comedy pratfalls

Why do they matter?

Paint it black

Is more than a song

It is a mood

For the lonely heart

When it is the time

Of the season

For company

Family and good cheer

Have a beer

Sing a happy song

It is all in the telling.

Merry Christmas one and all. Peter.