• My head is splitting open, the idea's are flowing away
    I'm working as hard as I can, with Christmas on the way
    My homework's barely touched, what with all the things to make
    Writing stories, making crafts, my head's about to brake

    For most I'll do the basics, write up a little story with ease
    But for the best, for my friends, I have more to do with this disease
    Cut the cardboard, paint the details
    And cover up the mistakes, with a layer of polish for your nails

    Draw the lines, it's simple enough
    Smooth down the edges, for they can't be too rough
    Add a coat of yellow polish, it's as plain as what Kindergartners' do
    The main color's done, now here comes blue

    It gets harder, so just let me be
    The details painted, that are ever so hard to see
    The smell's the one, It'll be the reason
    I go berserk, the cause for my insanity this season

    But I will do anything, oh, anything I have to
    To give you the best, the best Christmas gifts I can do
    An hour later, way past the normal time
    My mental clock, will go off and chime

    "It's about time, you go to sleep,
    And don't forget, the Socks on your feet
    It's all about the joy, the laughter, the fun, It's all about the gain
    In this season, it's all about the gain, from this winter time pain"

    So as I bolt through the work, the fine details only I ever care about
    As I pick up the telephone, and give my friends a shout
    "You'll never believe it, it's finally done
    My battle for a present for you, is finally won!"

    So as I write the stories, typing with utter glee
    The part of my brain, that controls "Me"
    Is working with pace, it's speed blinding
    While the writer's side, not noticeably minding

    It's been a few hours now, the time fast forwarding by
    And as I count the minutes, I begin looking for the reason why
    The clock on my desk, says half past Five
    I'm starting to think, that I'm barely alive

    But I continue, as someone must do this thing
    For there is more to this craft, than just what I'm telling
    No, don't go, this activity bores me
    And I need someone to help as I carry out the chores left for me

    Wow, this is long
    In length, under the narrative poem category, does this belong
    I guess I'm about done, so I'll leave you off here
    Since finally, at last, my headache is clear