A shovel for Christmas

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  • Life

    A shovel for Christmas

    The crisp winter air is blowing, it cuts me like a knife The trees that have lost their leaves look like they've also lost their lives The skies are grey all Goddamn day, the wind just sounds like sighs The leaves were hastily blown away, no time to exchange goodbyes If you check the naughty list, I guess you'll find my name I haven't been good and that's my fault so I guess I can't complain I guess that's why on Christmas morning everything looks the same Just one stalking hung from the mantle this year and your empty picture frame Heavy hangs the head that last night wore the crown I thought I saw Santa smiling at me but it turns out it was a frown My hope for happiness are like the snow- slowly falling to the ground I was alone when I put my decorations up, I'll be alone when I take them down So bartender pour me a drink, better make it a double My heart finally stopped beating, I think I'm in trouble Every time I think I've hit bottom someone throws me a shovel This is going to be the worst Christmas of all

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    Lizziewriter27 commented on A shovel for Christmas

    01-17-2011

    This is really great!! The rhyming really keeps ur eyes moving smoothly thru it, and I could definitely understand the sadness from the words. Great work!

    dahlusion commented on A shovel for Christmas

    12-30-2010

    Nothing like poetic honesty to capture my heart and feelings—this is perfect! Bravo!!!!!!!

    cheronld commented on A shovel for Christmas

    12-26-2010

    Honesty can be quite refreshing and can cast light on the shadows....when you fall down.....you must get up....because no one may be their when the pattern never changes...well written...Cher

    stefy commented on A shovel for Christmas

    12-17-2010

    Well, sometimes i feel empty and lost while the Christmas period....i like your story, it`s vivid and honest!

    ayyan commented on A shovel for Christmas

    12-17-2010

    This is going to be the worst Chirstmas of all- this line making me to think again again. The sense of your touch is very great. I love this poem -ayyan

    Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    SpiderValentine’s Poems (13)

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    The End 7
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    Thumbtacks 6
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