I looked beneath the tree, but there was nothing,

the tinsel drooped and languished on the floor;

the turkey dinner poisoned by its stuffing,

no mistletoe hung hopes above my door.

My last year's cards stood drunken at an angle,

the red and green balloons had lost some air,

no flashing lights - they lay in hopeless tangle,

the angel from my tree had fallen there.

I raised my glass of alcoholic sorrow,

and toasted to the empty, silent room,

then closed my eyes and wished it was tomorrow,

so I could pack away this Christmas gloom.