Friday, October 12, 2007

Winter’s Woes

It's because you have chosen December
To be the last month of the year
I get equated with the end of life,
With dreariness, gloom and fear.
If it was the other way round
(And really, that would’ve done just as well)
Then Summer would've been compared
To a scorching doom, to the fire of Hell.

What happened to my baby Christmas? Admit it:
You love the tinsel, the carols, the plum cake,
Stocking bulging with a gift all yours to take;
You love it all, even if you laugh at the christmas spirit.

So I can’t do a VIBGYOR…how does that matter?
White is pure, white is serene
White is sublime, white is pristine.
White is free from superficiality
White has softly flowing vitality.

I bring the old, the weak and weary
To a peaceful end, and make way-
For freshness and youth, for sunshine and green,
For colour, for laughter and play.

And still so much hate...
See what happens when I choose to hibernate.
Always whining, feeling blue...
Learn from Santa why can't you?

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