Christmas Past

Me. 2017.

I was looking through my files tonight and I found a poem I wrote three years ago. This isn't anything super deep, or anything; its just the ramblings of a fifteen year old who was ready for Christmas. Said fifteen year old didn't keep with a consistent style of poetry, or care if it made sense or not, but I hope you'll like it anyway!

Twas the night before Christmas

When all through the house

Not a person was sleeping 

Bedtime everyone was breaking

But no one really cared 

Because the crime was shared 

Mikayla was pinning like crazy 

And being all together lazy 

But she couldn’t go to sleep 

Well, at least not very deep. 

She was too excited about the next day 

Even more then she could say 

The music coming through her headphones 

Is all cheer and nothing like the moans 

Tis getting quite late into the night 

But sleep is still not quite in sight

She must read a chapter or two 

Or maybe a whole book might insue 

But she doesn’t care that much 

As the circumstances are such

But now she will go 

And lie very low 

But the morning can’t come soon enough 

Not only because of all the stuff

But because of the family that will be there 

Who all will all love me and care