This year there is no snow,
just the typical rain.
But how are you doing, anyhow?
Things here are generally the same.
You know:
Falling in love with your face in strangers,
though I don't know their names?
Getting annoyed at sappy Christmas songs,
and playing pointless games.
As you can tell,
Not much has changed.

I thought about getting you chocolates,
but it's far too cliche.
Besides, maybe you're on a diet,
maybe you'd give them away
but it's the thought that counts, I suppose;
and I couldn't count my thoughts of you,
God only knows.

And if God exists, and he is a he,
and he is just, and he judges me:
I won't make it past those pearly gates,
and you, again, I know i'd never see.
So it's times like these I'm glad to be an atheist,
or at least a serious agnostic.
Or my mind, It would be gone;
assuming I've not already lost it.

Come to think of it:
Now that you're gone,
maybe it doesn't want to snow.
Or maybe it's just global warming;
maybe, I don't know.