Phone Call

I picked up the phone, To call someone I used to call home. The music would slide through, Filling the barrier of the empty room. Christmas day, Please pick up. I know what you'd say, But...but... The music would still carry on, When eventually it'd all be gone. He knew it were me, But why wouldn't he just see? I sat thinking for a few hours, As my mood grew even more sour. Music flew a loud, As my eyes covered with these small clouds. "Merry Christmas pumpkin head", Thats what my Dad used to always say. Before the five years, When non-existent were these tears. That was my present, Which I found the most of, pleasant.