December baby

On December twenty-eight, An abominable date, For a birthday so cursed, The worst of the worst, Bringing sorrow and hate. The cake is stale and dry, The presents all awry, No joy or cheer in sight, On this dreadful night, As the abominable birthday draws nigh. The candles flicker and fade, As the memories start to cascade, Of birthdays gone by, Filled with laughter and sigh, But now only sorrow, dismayed. The abominable curse of the twenty-eighth, A date to fear and hate, No celebration to be had, Just sadness and bad, On this day, do not elate. So if you were born on this day, Beware of the price you must pay, For the abominable curse, That only gets worse, On your birthday, the twenty-eighth of December.