Waking up to the sweet aroma of pine that sweeps through the house floors
The realization of celebration hits like a car to the side.
World alive, awake, and awaiting.
Scurrying like rats to get to the well awaited destination
Heavy streams of aluminum and steel covered the landscape
Stressed by the slippery ice cold winter roads
Complacently following the tradition like years before
A pop can crushed without a warning
Watched in astonishment, but passed by without another thought
Some rushing, others looking away
Few stop for a second while others an eternity
The day, week, month, or years wrecked
The pit of their stomach uneasy and confused
Unable to stop the weeping, they try to form back to reality
Fighting for years to come, before losing it all