'Twas the morning of Christmas

‘Twas the morning of Christmas, I sat by the tree
and thought of how great Christmas next year will be.
The stockings are hung, but next year will hang better,
and my wrapping improved on the socks and the sweaters.
While nestled in bed, I could not get to sleep,
just thinking of all the traditions I’ll keep.
With visions of caroling, lights, and sweet treats,
this Christmas is good, but next one can’t be beat.
Then, in from the bedroom arose a great clatter,
my family was waking to join in the matter.
I sprung from my seat to welcome their presence,
my joy in just thinking of all the great presents —
I’ll get for them next year, with this year behind me
I’ve already set my alerts to remind me.
Of Black Friday deals, and Amazon Prime Days
my calendar’s marked, next year I will find ways
to celebrate family, and show them I love them
with gifts and with actions — I’ll kiss them, I’ll hug them.
But I can’t do it then if now I don’t plan it
my brain needs to figure it all out, god damn it.
I’m dreaming, I’m scheming, of ways I can bring joy
to my dear friends and family, all the girls and the boys.
Next year we will dance, next year we will sing.
Next year is when Christmas will certainly bring
the comfort and joy and the promise of peace.
Next year will be perfect, next year I’ll release
all my worry and hurry and hustle and shame
this year is to fault, this year is to blame.
This year was quite stupid, this year was so dumb,
I can’t wait ‘til it’s over, for next year to come.
’I can’t wait for next Christmas!’ I shouted out loud.
I broke out of my trance, and I looked all around.
Surrounded by boxes and paper and wrapping,
my family was gone, back to bed, they were napping.
While I thought of ways to take next year and own it,
my loved ones around me they lived in the moment.
I missed it, I blinked, and I kissed it goodbye.
I looked forward to Christmas, but now I could cry.
Now Christmas is over, and I see it so clear
at least I can make it up, Christmas, next year.