It is Christmas that the emptiness in my soul expands
I miss the family suppers (sometimes not so full)
From the union of people
From the time when I was just a child
And I did not understand the complexity of the adult world

I miss the gifts that
They always rejoiced me
There was no game of egos
To know who had spent more

I miss going to the town square to see Santa Claus
Of the purity of that act

I miss the lights
Which were much better when I was a child

Of the trees
To dream about the snow
Because it's very hot in here

To go to the church
Sitting on the wooden stools
That even my great-grandparents must have sat

To think that in the new year
It would be another year at school and soon I would get very big and be able to use a pen (as a child I only used pencils)

I miss the past
Even if it has its ups and downs
I missing my Christmas