It’s the day after Christmas; I hope you’re well-fed;
I wish that I never had to leave my nice bed.
I’m sitting at work, which is all but half-full
Of people telling holiday stories of bull.
Yesterday now seems a blur and a noise
Of running between houses and bags full of toys.
The children are playing, gifts piled in a stack,
Not knowing I wish I could bring them all back.
When you have three-point-five kids, it’s hard to recover
From buying gifts for everyone’s brother, sister, and mother.
If you’re still at home, then enjoy your day off,
I think I, myself, am developing a cough….