Monday is still asleep,
Tuesday tries to wake him gently,
when she can.
Wednesday doesn't know what to think,
he's very emotional.
Thursday councils him to no avail.
Friday is quite a handful,
but a cute one,
for she is the baby.
Saturday tries to be a "good boy"
yet he doesn't even know what that is.
Sunday, well, she is a stay at home mom,
that lost her husband to a war way back when. She prays day and night that
her children will have good lives,
but she does not believe it is possible.

January is the oldest of the months,
though he doesn't really care.
February is a hoplessly lost romantic.
March is lucky, but far too realistic for her taste. April dances across the lawn
in the rain
and smiles all the time,
even when she is not happy in the slightest.
May is haughty and he doesn't get it.
June sings songs outside of July's window,
he is trying to win her heart.
August, the loner,
does well in school and carries a million issues. September secretly loves him,
but is too shy to say.
October the prankster pranks us all
but never gets into trouble.
November is thankful
for the tears and laughs alike
but not for himself.
As for myself,
I am December,
they say I am low-key with a heart of gold,
but I think not.

In a way we are a family
and we mean the world to each other.
Though we do not share the blood,
we fight,
we cry,
we bleed,
we tear each other apart
when the moment feels right.
One day people will know
just who we are, but for now,
I guess this is as good as it gets.