This year, before the days of Christmas end
I hope we meet again, for you to comprehend
That even though we know little of the other
There is a connection between us, I dare bother
The barriers and hurdles that keep me from you
The same ones that hold you in place, it’s true
I can’t even run to you, neither can you to me
When, oy vey, if ever, can we be truly set free?
Sad to say, I’d probably be disappointed even
When we meet, on January fourteen, or seven?
Nineteen may also be so, a true disappointment
Festivities, celebrations, but you won’t be present…
Advertisement
