By BernardYoung


As the evenings drew in
it started. Sad.

My head would be full of night.
Bursting with sad.

I’d turn on every light
in the house but no light

was ever bright enough
to lift it. Sad.

By Christmas I would be so low
I could barely get out of bed.

One year, I felt so bad
that I went to bed

on Christmas Eve
and refused to move.


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