A Loser's December

In a cold room,
a lonely room
I sit and think.
I sit and think
as I sit upon the cold
empty
wallet
that hibernates in my
back pocket.
No gold this year
my dear.
No ribbons or bows.
If only I wasn't lazy.
If only I was a man.
Maybe then I could afford
some cards
some candy
something.
Maybe next year
if she isn't gone by then.