Impossible

I thought it was impossible
To feel the way I do–
When everything is going
well; the turkey,
trimmings and Macy’s
parade are through.

It should be holly berries,
Rudolph and Hermie smiles;
It should be Happy New Year,
Times Square, and snowman piles

What is it about the days
When darkness comes too soon
That should be warm and fuzzy
Yet blue and gray and haze
Cloud the mind and rob
the joy from what should be
holidays?

It must be just the simple loss
of Grandmas, love, and youth–
Release, a little whimper, then
Think on grown up lives–
Then beg a swift kick in the butt
To appreciate the bounty
That makes up blessed lives.

It’s impossible to stay depressed
With goodness all around–
So shake it off, do something good–
And forget yourself for now.

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