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Rated: E · Poetry · Biographical · #1629546
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







© Copyright 2009 C.E. Thieroff (babalu726 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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