Home for Christmas

No time for

another cold cliché.

I’m still here,

trading my yesterdays.

Used to be tomorrows,

but all that

has gone away.

My only currency,

currently,

is time and space.

 

Don’t think I’m coming home;

there’s too much pain

to set aside.

I’ll sit and watch the snow fall

on this dumpster fire

of my life.

 

Can’t stray away again,

last time I left,

a lover died.

Nothing but the best

for you,

nothing but regrets inside.

 

I’ll always love you.

Remember,

as December whiles away.

Another cold cliché.

I’m still here,

trading my yesterdays.

 

HG – 2019

 

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