| Posted On: | 2006-12-02 15:26:36 |
Thursday has all the promise of Friday
but with no real follow-through
the weather a pathetic fallacy
echoing my contemplation
I hate the fact that's it's dark at 4
but that's what winter brings
along with tiny pinpricks of hope
disguised as holiday lights
this parking lot is a skating rink
I can't count the times I've fallen
and it's only the begining of December
my gloves do nothing against this wind
they're pond-scum green cotton jokes
much like my mother's eyes
every year I get excited
every year I think it will be better
so far, it is
I blame you
