I waited for you at midnight
to wish you a Happy New Year.
The minute passed.
Reality struck.
Your lips occupied another.
Time.
The great reminder  
not to waste another year.
Waiting.

I pout
I shout
I mull around
Looks with daggers
Silent anger
Seething sighs
Rolling eyes
But I’d probably die without you.

All the little ponies
Are standing on the hill
Gaze out across the valley
Wild mustang regal and wear
Asks smallest pony to himself
Why magestic am I nere?
No wings to glide along the clouds
Refused legs lean and long?
Nor was I gifted and bestowed
sprouted horn upon my crown

Then jumps nearby a frog to he
and startles neigh a-fright
Upon which he did rear and stomp
Squashing frog among the leaves
And pony never asked again
For perspective gained release.

You love me
But you go to her

You need me
But not that much

Can’t take anymore
But I can’t leave

What the hell am I here again for?

What are you doing on Christmas Day?

Oh, having a quiet one at home. My family lives too far away and it’s nice to be alone.

Oh not me, I love a fuss! The more the merrier, I say. It’s really a must to be surrounded by love on a happy Christmas Day.

Suppose you could see, if you’d grown up like me, you’d better understand. My family gatherings were more like a slathering of trauma and animosity.

Maybe one day it won’t be this way, I look forward to some change. I’m hopeful to break the generational hate that’s been deadlocked age after age.

But until then, I can only depend on the peaceful tradition I’ve made. Eating mince pies by the flickering light of my mobile phone screen.