It's December and the sudden gush of cold breeze reminds me of you,
Again, somehow I am here sitting all by myself, in the bar
Staring at that window seat where you used to sit.
It's December, it's not the month of love, but the gentle hum in the air around me pokes
And tells me,
That it's that time of the year,
When you look back and see how much you have grown, seen and lost
It's that time of the year,
When past rhymes with regret and future come in a box labelled fragile.
Served cold on a plate of resolutions.
The bell chimes,
As it's time,
To break bonds.
To sleep tight.
To throw away apologies and blames.
And it's time.
It's December, a cold one.