I reflect upon the season and memory of Christmas' past,
and I cant help but to wonder if this may be my last.
A thought not born of this season and its promises of joy,
but rather from the pained reflection I am no more a boy.
I think upon friends and family at distance from my day,
who I love so very dearly though they be so far away.
I find this season lonely, with a sadness now become its gift,
yearly every passing nearer to loathing has been my shift.
At an age now to be more a cynic than an optimistic man,
seeing only greed and commerce and not some godly plan.
A Christmas of my childhood, of love, good will and of care,
forever wish I for you all,
never knowing sadness and loneliness' despair.
Dec 10, 2021
Dec 10, 2021 at 5:52 PM UTC
I reflect upon the season and memory of Christmas' past,
and I cant help but to wonder if this may be my last.
A thought not born of this season and its promises of joy,
but rather from the pained reflection I am no more a boy.
I think upon friends and family at distance from my day,
who I love so very dearly though they be so far away.
I find this season lonely, with a sadness now become its gift,
yearly every passing nearer to loathing has been my shift.
At an age now to be more a cynic than an optimistic man,
seeing only greed and commerce and not some godly plan.
A Christmas of my childhood, of love, good will and of care,
forever wish I for you all,
never knowing sadness and loneliness' despair.
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