Today I dressed as Santa
tonight I am all alone
except an eight legged cat
with a lampshade on it's head
that just lays there purring
needy, but beneath my bed.
Strange fate brought us together
spider kitty's tooth and claws
and lonely sining Santa:
'I won't wallow in my mind,
I'll take what I can get here,
when no one is my kind'
Beautiful faces mock me
in all the passing glances.
If they don't speak my language,
I sure don't like my chances.
I love it though it slays me.
I don't count the passing days,
I just notice every month,
when my isolation pays
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3 comments:
This isn't depression setting in. It is merely the warm, comforting embrace of melancholy (ya, it's different).
I would like some Christmass Emails though =) I think I'm getting internet at home tomorrow!
Right on! And love this poem too!
Every month when the isolation pays.
Rage.
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