A Delusional Christmas

Sixpence none the richer Christmas day unwrapping that pretty silver bow hoping for the proverbial pot of gold amongst treasures Santa left in tow Street corner kettles all dressed in red full of empty promises and seasonal semblance of somehow now caring for that colurless fellow bells relentlessly taking toll inside my head Gifts of wine and cheer soon to disappear at the first fall of winter's fresh flakes slip sliding downhill on an icy terrain blaming all your faults on others mistakes Curling up with the cat eyeing tinsel on the street preferring a cup of eggnog over other's company waiting for the last light bulb to bust and the return of normalcy, hatred, and mistrust