Christmas Eve With Nothing to Show

Pick it up. Pick it up. Pick it up. Woke up at noon with a

pit in my chest. The calendar's screaming, I'm failing the test.

The tree is all lit, looking shiny and bright. But there's nothing

underneath it for tomorrow night. I check my bank account, I check the

time. Procrastination is my favorite crime. The mall is a zoo and

the parking is hell. I'm breathing in the scent of a gingerbread smell.

I'm sprinting past the Santas and the fake plastic snow. I got 45

minutes and nowhere to go. It's Christmas Eve and I haven't bought a thing.