To my land lord, and also his poker buddies ;^)

Even though I like December, it's not December anymore. In fact I'm now about half-aways a way from the cold icy chills and the warm hands.

In those times the sky is dark and inviting, and the snow brushes around like a blanket midst a hellish wind. The aurora gleaming it's painted strokes across the midnight sky from sun-god to moon-god. And back again.

The times were happier than, because we were forced to stay together. It was the only way for us to stay warm.

Yet, winters pass, and men forget their betters, and we all grew apart. Then our everliving summer approached and now we again are forced apart, never some to see again.

Dear landlord,

Stay out of my business and keep your own.

To his poker buddies,

I'll probably buy you all drinks someday.