The Month of December
I don’t remember
The month of December
So sneakily showing its face.
The previous seasons
It must have its reasons
For choosing to somehow erase.
Since, like a magician,
What’s come to fruition
Is something we didn’t expect:
The year’s close to ending
And there’s no defending
To-do lists with boxes unchecked.
Yet we must keep hoping
That we’ll still be coping
With every curve life seems to throw,
For age has us finding,
As months keep unwinding,
We’ll never learn all we can know.
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