I feel
dead inside
On this
Christmas Day
Father
Christmas died
His
spirit flown away
He
embodied Christmas spirit
And took
such great joy
In
selecting perfect gifts
For every
girl and boy
From
infant to adult
His
happiness was in the selecting
Peaking
in a crescendo
On the
day of unwrapping
Eric
likes model cars
He'd
watch carefully and see
Which
were his favorites
To find
the best one that could be
Lisa
loves this certain doll
Let's
learn, read and see
To find
the neatest one
And it's
accompanying accessory
Karen had
something catch her eye
Something
shiny or needed
Looking
until it's just right
Failure
would not be conceded
Money
tucked away
All the
year long
A budget
for Christmas
Financials
never wrong
Decorations
needed stands
Holiday collections to put on display
Everything
Christmas related
The
kitchen sink to Santa's sleigh
He
started smiling
Around
December 1st
Only
stopping when a picture was taken
Then he'd
make a face, the worst!
Christmas
Eve Day was for shopping
Taking
his list he'd kept all year
Coming
home late overladen
He'd lock
himself in a room
To
complete all his wrapping
Christmas
morning comes soon
Finally
time to open gifts
He'd
await your reaction
Often
telling stories
Of how
and why he'd made that selection
Such joy
in the holiday
Wasn't
kept just to family
Donations
were made
To many a
worthy charity
To which
it's not certain
He didn't
speak of who or how much
Charity
given was not bragged or spoken of
And he
treated it as such
Why was
he like that?
I don't
really know
Yet
another story
Lost to time
Perhaps
it was because
Money was
often tight
When he
was a child
Many
gifts a rare sight
Or just
the spirit of giving
That he
was raised with
And
nurtured and grew
With
everything he did
All I
know
Is that
now he is dead
And to me
it seems he took Christmas with him
Leaving
emptiness instead
"So
now your kids don't get to have Christmas?"
It's a
question I get a lot
The
answer is Yes they absolutely have it
Though my
feelings are in a knot
I take
great care
In my
gift selection
And I'm
getting better
Trying to
go in the right direction
But I try
not to wrap
On
Christmas Eve
I try to
give to charity
But not
as much as he
On
Christmas morning
I'll try
to be all smiles
Though
inside I'm far from happy
Far from
it by miles
Christmas
mostly seems
Like
every other day
Often a
little worse
Because
Father Christmas
Has passed
away
The day becoming less a blessing
More a curse
*hugs*
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