This Doesn'T Fit In A Nicely Wrapped Box With A Bow Poem by Zoe Martin

To those wrapped up tight in warm fluffy sheets,
To those freezing cold, asleep in the streets,
To families that argue and to those that don't,
To the husband begging her to stay, but just maybe she won't,
To the children sat by fireplaces in their fathers arms,
To the parents that wish they had that sense of calm,
To the siblings that fight and to the ones that just play,
All of them waiting for that special day.

To those that hang stockings under photos of love,
To those whose loved ones are far up above,
To people apart and people all near,
To the child whose wish is to be emptied of fear,
To the extended families with hundreds of smiles,
To the cook in the kitchen who just wants to sit down for a while,
To the baby that's crying but no one can hear,
He only wants one present this year.

To those that feel lost and those that are found,
To those that travel and to those bed-bound,
To happiness in hearts all around the world,
To the woman whose only worry is 'hair straight or curled? '
To the Mother that worries she can't feed them all,
To the man on the bridge who's about to fall,
To the parents that have gone and emptied their banks,
Did you even give them your thanks?

To the hate in the world that we try to ignore,
To the sense of us all wanting so much more,
To the meaningless paper you spend buying gifts,
After spending all year working double shifts,
To the warmth in the smiles that the snow brings,
To the value of more priceless things,
Treasure your family or the ones you hold dear,
Enjoy more than objects at this time of year.

Merry Christmas to all is what I meant to say,
But with thinking about it, I caused a delay,
Not everyone is as lucky as you,
So please spare some time to think of them too.