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Here comes the cold wind

What does it mean?

Christmas is just around the corner

When the calendar turns to September.

I hate it, I hate this;

I’ve never known a single bliss.

I guess I’ve grown a little jaded,

My heart worn out and slowly faded.

Holidays don’t feel so special

Or am I just too superficial?

That’s why I’m writing honestly,

A love song meant for only me.

I have missed so much in life,

But never pain, nor trials, nor strife.

I’m tired of being all alone,

Of learning life on my own.

I hate it, I hate this,

Especially all my past memories.

I’ve waited far too long

For love to finally come along.

Valentine’s Day feels less than special,

Just an empty, hollow ritual;

Every corner washed in red,

The shade of love, of war, of bled.

But now I’m no longer alone,

No longer living on my own;

Today, I write this tenderly,

A love song meant for only me.