Poetry That Survived Christmas

It is the day after Christmas, and the house is a mess
The presents are all gone, along with the stress,
Tinsel and wrapping paper is scattered all upon the floor
And Santa and his elves are still hanging upon the front door.

It is the day after Christmas, and the house is now quiet
No one is shouting or screaming, and no longer is there a riot,
There is no food in the fridge and also none on the kitchen table
No turkey or ham is left, and not even the crumbs from a bagel.

It is the day after Christmas, and all is sleeping late
With no more presents to unwrap, or food to place on the plate,
The Christmas music is turned off, and the Christmas lights are unplugged
Now back unto my couch, I have exhaustedly shrugged

It is the day after Christmas, and it’s finally time to relax
The Christmas tree has been removed along with the trash sacks,
In the fireplace with the logs, wrapping paper and receipts now burns
Then someone wakes up and screams, “let’s not forget the Christmas returns! 

It is the day after Christmas, and I let out a sleepy yawn
Another Christmas had come, and another Christmas has gone,
I am so tired and exhausted from spreading out this Christmas cheer
But, then there will be another day after Christmas, once again next year.

Randy McClave