It’s Christmas Eve eve
I got no where to go
It’s Christmas Eve eve
And I’m on my own
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve
I’ll put on a song or two
Relaxing in memories
Of all the things I used to do
I could sing to myself
A little Christmas song
Because there’s nobody else
Who’d say what I sang wrong
There’s snow outside
It’s a cold winter’s night
So here I’ll hide
Warm by firelight
No one to hug
No one to hold
But there’s chocolate in a mug
That never gets old
Read the tale
Of how it all began
That same old tale
We hear over and over again
Around this time of year
Think of days gone by
Listen to what I want to hear
Because I’m alone tonight
Wait, I didn’t comment on this already? Amazing, Emma my friend, quite different. And in my way of seeing it, different is hard to be when it comes to poetry.
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