Coming Home for Christmas
A poem written on a Christmas Eve train ride home.
Coming home for Christmas
Warms me to the core,
It reminds me of a mistletoe kiss
And what life is really for.
To be with my family
Is all I could really ask,
Home is happiness’ key
It is my future, present, and past.
My mother still lets me talk for hours on end.
My sisters and brothers are my greatest friends.
We gather round that blessed tree,
There’s no place I’d rather be.
I don’t care about the money or expensive gifts,
The giggles and traditions are what I would really miss.
Because though we don’t have the largest home,
It’s cozy enough to bring me back from where I roam.
The lights twinkle in the darkness,
I look around and think “this is it”.
My parents are holding hands,
We celebrate the Son of Man
And how He made this all come true.
He’s present in our “I love you”’s
And my heart swells up with gratitude.
All I can think of is
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you
About the Creator
Kensley Kay
I’m a 24 year old from the western United States. I enjoy writing poetry, short stories, romance, and creative fiction. Currently working on publishing an adventure romance trilogy on Amazon.
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Six Feet Under
Buried alive. What a horrible way to go. Yazz lay there, in her own thoughts. What else could she do? She was hungry, thirsty, tired, mentally, and physically exhausted, and more than anything, she was bored. She hoped she would die of boredom before anything else, anything else would've been more painful. Like many people had, she and her friends had talked about what they reckon the worst ways to die were, it was a morbid subject, but it came up every now and again. Yazz had always been one to argue her point on drowning, others had mentioned burning alive, slowly and painfully bleeding to death, hung drawn and quartered, and being starved to death. It was strange that none of them had considered being buried alive, it had never come up. But now, she was thinking back to those conversations her and her friends had had, how could they have not thought about it? It took a lot longer than the others, you were completely confined, you couldn't move or do anything, you just had to wait, until your body was physically unable to support a life system anymore, which could take up to four days. Four! By far the longest out of all of them. She recounted some of these conversations just to try and pass the time, anything to pass the time. It was difficult to know how much time had passed since she had been underground, it was difficult to know anything. There were many things that Yazz didn't know, she didn't know where she was, she didn't know how she'd got into the coffin, she'd just woken up there. Yazz also didn't know what time it was, or even what day it was, she guessed at Tuesday, it was Sunday evening when she'd been buried alive, intentionally, and although it had felt like weeks had passed, she was still alive, which means she hadn't died from dehydration, and therefore it couldn't have been more than four days.
By Liam Stormabout 21 hours ago in Fiction
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