Senior Scene reader Pat Freeberg, as a parting shot to one of her least favorite parts of the holiday season, contributed the following poem on Black Friday:

Tis the season to be jolly, or so I’ve heard it said.

But when Black Friday comes around, I’d rather stay in bed.

It seems to me that getting up before the crack of dawn

Just isn’t  something that I would say, has me completely drawn.

It may be black in an accounting sense, but to me black Friday’s name

  is more in the medical sense, just plain, certifiably insane.

To see the masses at the doors, just waiting to get in

to all the stores with bargains galore, will surely cause a din.

They push and shove and stomp around, and wave their money about

No knowing or caring who gets hurt as they yell and scream and shout.

The poor clerks who have to work that day, would rather be at home

With family and friends, in their comfortable home instead of a real war zone.

So please, can’t  we change the way things are on this day after we give thanks

and just let us rest, relax and rejoice  without all the worry and cranks.