We all look forward to December days,
As a kid at heart or just a runaway,
Everyone deals with it their own way,
Whether being a Scrooge or to mend one's way.

Some call it sweater weather,
Others just an excuse to celebrate.

Seasonal drinks and fluffy socks,
From the cute little café down the block.

Your stocking's empty
But you don't care,
Cause your heart's where real happiness lays.

Fairy lights decorating the streets,
But a dark wormhole embraces whomever it meets,
The photo album lays on your feet,
Waiting to be burned,
Or just ready to give you some peace.

Bah, Humbug!
No more looking forward to December Days.