Mistletoes haggle, on their quest to pair new couples,

While I wish snow would come early, to bury my sorrows,

This night is not an unusual night,

For shivers accompany my spine, whilst I stand alone under Christmas light,

I fear myself is truly alone,

On this holy night, when moving pictures turn into stone.

– Stu. T.H. (Sep 16, 2023)

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