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Got The T-Shirt: Christmas Stuffing

Steph Spiers' poem expresses the bleak feelings of someone who will be dining alone on December 25th.

Hot mince pies lose their appeal,
While Brussels and gravy both congeal;
Next to cranberry sliced turkey breast,
M&Sí superlative, depressing best.
Gold roast tatties soon turn cold,
When cracker jokes seem too old.
Itís hard to swallow Christmas pud
When welling tears threaten to flood
Down reddened cheeks onto the cloth,
To soak into the Starter broth.
Just count the hours to Boxing Day,
When all this gaietyís packed away.
Christmas dinnerís not much fun,
When itís cooked just for one.


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