She used to put presents underneath that artificial tree

She used to spread cheers and count down the days

She used to hang the stockings and write letters for Santa

She used to be jolly and grab a moment then pray

Well, she used to…

But she still sits beside the huge artificial tree her granny built

Churning inside her is the venom of great guilt

Eyes dull and lifeless, not sparkling like the Christmas lights

Not a trace of happiness freezing in wintry white

All is calm, all is bright

Yet swallowing her is chaos and bereavement

Yes, she finds people celebrating her parents’ death

Christmas carols make her weak 

Holiday celebration makes her sick

Perhaps, the best Yuletide decoration is being wreathed in smiles

But why can’t she find reasons to acknowledge the season and glorify? 




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