last day of the year
the thread with which she sewed
her tapestry has run out,
all four needles have been lost
somewhere in the bed
where she propped up to sew,
to write against the cold,
it is an ugly work,
let us be honest,
the tapestry from this year was
pure sick and dark,
ugly
there is an old saying to never
say, "things can't get worse,"
they can get worse and often do
those could be your last words
they were mine, maybe they felt I didn't care,
and maybe I did not
now even the gold thread weaved in the tapestry
has made it gaudy, bawdy
no royal look to the piece
we won't even call it art
and she, the other she
in this year's story
has turned to talking of debbie
having sex with a ghost
(and quite enjoying it)
and chakras and soul mate love
(yet, her love interest is scamming her,
catfish some might say)
the only thing that made sense
(or we wish/hope is true)
was her reading,
it said there would be karma,
a good karma this coming year
to repay the sick and ugly
whatever, we will not add hopefully or wishing to it,
they have another saying that
what you are doing as the clock
strikes midnight in the coming year
you will be doing it the whole year
so don't be crying,
or have a piece of onion in your tooth
and most of all,
do not be doing evil