Not Lonely This Christmas
The pine’s propped up in the corner
But not for me the lure of the tree
Festooned in baubles and tinsel
Sheltering its stash of carefully-wrapped presents
And shedding its needles for everyone to see
Nor the cupboard-full of mince-pies and stollen
For I’ve frequently had doubts
About the cranberry sauce and the oversize turkey
The stuffing and pigs in their blankets
And the leftover roasties and sprouts
I’ve turned down the invitations to parties
I’ve not sent Christmas cards either
For this annual budget-busting mentality
Is not something I feel I can cope with
Or want to have to endure neither
Santas, elves and their reindeer
Are of any religious purpose totally devoid
The crackers and paper hats leave me quite cold
And the festive specials on the telly
Are things I try hard to avoid
I’ve finally escaped the annual torture
Of listening to relatives as they moan
About the cost of everything these days
And struck out on my singular path
To spend a quiet day on my own
What’s it all got to do with anything anymore?
When did the Feast of Stephen turn into Boxing Day?
And apart from the shops being closed
And no useful services running
Isn’t it just the same as any other day?
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