Holiday depression arrives in the free form verse variety |
Irish Christmas Lonely Murphy called today, Irish Christmas Lonely paid its visit to him It has visited me for years, pulling up a chair for a long stay Surely uninvited, it crashed the private party in my head again Its calling card dropped in my psyche days before the event Murphy and I know Irish Christmas Lonely way too personally Irish Christmas Lonely with its open invitation by genetic default I'm mostly German with a wee bit of Irish mixed in for the fun of it My German side is in control , my Irish side weakens me The call was welcomed, Irish Christmas Lonely is bigger than me Its burden too great to bear alone, suffering in silence's cold grip In a room of a thousand friends how is it possible to be alone Its the will of Irish Christmas Lonely, a real mother for ya' A self inflicted fog of potables used to dull Irish Christmas Lonely An exercise in futility , Its double edged sword cut me deeply Left bleeding profusely in an alley of fear, terror and confusion Not today, the full weight of Irish Christmas Lonely bearing down Two old guys suffering, lonely in spite of it all, always fixated on the end A change of attitude you might suggest, Irish Christmas Lonely laughing We hold onto each other because our kindred spirits suffer with experience Irish Christmas Lonely patiently waits, sitting nearby watching, knowing The comfort of friendship based on anxieties shared, mutual fears Surprised at nothing at this point of our lives, waiting with dignity Perhaps it is the Manitou that will be calling us soon that we see The form of Irish Christmas Lonely staring at us again, unmoving It takes one to know one, at least on an intimate basis recognized Irish Christmas Lonely is aware of this fact and hates us for it It makes her job a bit harder but not inevitable, the end always comes Three days dead, alone, swelled like a raccoon lying at the roadside Death caused by loneliness, Irish Christmas or one of her close friends Soon forgotten again, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, rust never sleeps Nor does Irish Christmas Lonely |