November 28, 2022
These days, Christmas makes me more than a little sad,
When I look back at the memories and think of all the things I never had.
And all of those things that we couldn’t afford to give,
Sometimes working paycheck to paycheck, sometimes working just to live.
Certainly, you say, it can’t just be about the toys?
Shouldn’t it be, wouldn’t it be, about the Christmas joy?
Goodwill to all people and happiness to all,
And warm tummy feelings for the girls and the boys?
Christmas is supposed to be the altruistic pinnacle,
So why is it that I begin to feel quite so cynical.
Perhaps I am getting the hum from the proverbial bug,
And have I forgotten that this is meant to be Biblical?
Must we do Christmas again each and every new season?
The fact, that I even suggest that we forgo it, does that make me a heathen?
Why must we, why must we then, insist on Christmas cheer?
After all, shouldn’t goodwill be spread throughout the entire year?
And even when I have good memories, it is somehow not enough,
I find that I am sad and miss the company of those no longer with us.
Remembering the good and the joy hurts just a little bit more,
Especially when you can no longer be with those you adore.
Why must we do Christmas once again this year?
Shouldn’t we save the money and spend it on beer?
Expensive games and dolls and passing fads,
It makes me more than just a little mad, let’s be clear.
The ones who pretend to care are the ones really obscene,
The annual bathing of their soul, the temerity to call it clean.
Care for others is something you should do every single day,
Character is who you are, especially when it is unseen.
And then I hear the store Santa jingle their bell,
And I am silent in the night and want to wish people well.
Perhaps it is okay that people look at it a little bit simplistic,
Perhaps it is the only time they can feel a little bit altruistic.
Life is hard enough without worrying about other people’s judgment,
Life is complicated enough without worrying about feeling repugnant.
So perhaps it is best to not overthink and stop being satirical,
And give myself permission to wish for another Christmas miracle.