Christmas Eve

Too many books to read
Too many TV shows to watch
Too many women to love
Too many poems to write
Too many things to do
Too many footprints to count

Christmas Eve
One of too many days to spend

I see her passing by
with not-so-mysterious smile
on her not-so-pretty face
with not-so-elegant steps
in all black

She might be interested in me

One of those days

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