It doesn’t hit me this year,
The carols and cheer and the presents-
None of it.
Men fall to alcohol
To fill their emptiness inside.
I wish I was legal.
Just like the bells that ring
Of Christmas and whatnot,
I am hollow inside-
And if you struck me I would probably resound,
It doesn’t hit me at all this year,
But I wish something would-
Because I no longer have anything to fall into
To get away from the happiness of others
During the Hollow Days.