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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Holiday >> ID #568561 |
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It’s just no fun making snow angels… Alone. Christmas shopping, once festive, is frenzied Without you. A roaring fire in the fireplace is to be shared And I have no one to cuddle up to. The only person complaining about shoveling is me And I’m tired of hearing my own voice! Please come home for Christmas, darling And save me from my lonely solitude.
© Copyright 2002 Jill (UN: annekarle at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Jill has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |