The Twelfth Day of Christmas
The Holidays have gone away.
The New Year came and passed.
And how uncool: tomorrow, school.
Our break blew by too fast.
The gifts we got that Santa brought
are broken, bashed, or bent.
and we’re bereft that all that’s left
are clothes that grandmom sent.
The halls aren’t decked. The wreath is wrecked.
There’s no more Christmas cheer.
The candies: ate. And now we wait
a slothful, sluggish year.
The tree has died; it’s naked, dried
with needles on the ground.
Three hundred fifty three more days
’till Christmas comes around.