Gifts to each other was trite,
But the thought behind, just right.
Years haven’t ebbed the joy,
Low key is just a meticulous ploy.
Life begins to fill up with platitudes,
Ventilated, it gets by fresh attitudes.
Every moment launches itself anew,
Toward content comfort, gets skewed.
The day may feel like any other,
There's no way else to want it rather.
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