Winter Taunts
Unkind December
lays knife-legged burdening expections
Upon my shoulders.
In famine, it promises feast.
In distress, it promotes joy.
In loneliness, it emphasises closeness.
It offers nothing
to ease the burden,
to make promises happen,
but hides it all away, behind a wall,
of broken dreams and lost routines.
Yet somehow, I am required,
to paste on a genuine smile;
Overlook hunger, pain, sorrow,
and pretend to be happy
with what I'm given.
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