Constant states of greed and heartbreak
blend with the mistletoe.

Trudging through till that holiday
in the coldness of our hearts.

Shame and pride possess the family and lovers;
Sometimes even their own selves.

What of those who have no where to go;
Shut out of their families, homes, and society.
Costing them more than what they paid.
Till they become 'fortunate,' they remain the only ones who aren't blind.

The constant state of preservation,
Persecution,
Resolution,
Masking the state of rising urgency.

It's not the cold that freezes a stranger's heart,
Which makes them deny any help to those in need.

Pretty to look at.
And poisonous to consume.

It's what makes the holidays wonderful,
As that kiss makes it's bend.

The day comes round,
All grudges forgotten,
For at least the day.

When it's family and friends,
Spending the day to finally catch up.

Thankful when there's no tragedy,
And being there when needed, should any occur.

Laughter filling the air with tears,
How much joy can really be in the world?

It's an unfortunate time for some,
While wonderful for others.

Time to be grateful for what you have,
And hope the trouble for another fixes itself,
On this Mistletoe Holiday or the year.