It is the same sad December every time in Iraq, no change, no hope. Really sad thing. --What I wrote in December 2017 You sit there, on that branch with my dream, but I cannot see your beauty because my eyes are soaked in the redness of December. I am a red man from the land of wars; my blood is shed and my soul is broken. No flowers here, no spring, only red December.( From " Red December" poem) . --What I wrote in December 2018 These streets have been made by the rough fingers of our December where the nights are weepy, and the moons are colorless. You canβt see anything here in December just violent and shameless faces. ( From " Stormy December" poem) . --What I wrote in December 2019 I freeze; but I do not freeze because the snow plays with my nose and cheeks, but rather because the New Year's tree has become red like the streets of my city and the New Year's party cups are full of tears of our mothers. ( From " Crazy December" poem)