Concerning Christmas.
Spirits fly all around, just out of reach
They even swoop down, but we never meet
Elusive and mysterious
I can’t seem to feel
In spite of all the colors
And the scents, so real
Spirits invisible with wings, they’ve started to go
They’d prefer me to sing, but I don’t like it to show
Maybe the snow needs to fall
Or maybe my head is broken
Perhaps its just a fluke
That I’ve missed the season’s token
Spirits apparent in other faces, like candle-filled pumpkins
They’ve been gathered from other places, the season is up to somethin’
If only I could sense
And be a part of the festive lights
But I feel stuck in over-drive
Too hyper to appreciate the holiday sights
