Christmas is over; the tinsel’s all down,
Melancholy letdown creeps all around.
The walls stark and bare; no more pine in the room,
My house is as dreary as my sprit of gloom.
I proclaimed “I hate Christmas,” the shopping, the expense,
Now I miss the festive hubbub, the joyous nonsense.
My jeans no longer button; a tire sits round my waist,
Oh the glorious food I couldn’t resist but to taste.
Some presents brought pleasure, disappointment, a tear,
Sure to be forgotten by this time next year.
The Christ child is swaddled in peanuts of white,
Somber I ponder Him this silent night.
Thankful for perfect gifts from His Father of love,
My talents, my happiness all come from above.
Yes, Christmas is over, but Christ is still king,
And throughout the New Year His praises I’ll sing.
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