What’s true?

I tried to pretend and put on a face,

Like the tree bought in to decorate.

Cover it in baubles in the fireplace,

I smile at the beauty but know its too late.


I take out my stocking, hand stitched with my name,

Inside it’s full of expectations and pain.

A label in his hand, ‘I Love You’ again,

Its as disappointing as Christmas Day rain.


‘Ho, Ho , Ho’ he wrote on the side,

But the joke is on me, Ha, Ha, Ha.

I sat for a while and cried,

Even the tree mocks me by looking so blah.


I’ve tried so many times to make sense of this,

I’ve put on my decorations and lied too.

Its a dangerous place to reminisce,

This year its not red and gold, but blue.


I hate mince pies and most of the foods,

A gluttony of spending and a panic buy.

Maybe if I spend it’ll improve my moods,

I can smile with the rest and not wonder why.


Wonder why each year I tell myself this lie,

To trust others that hurt me and still do.

With so much deception I sigh,

I still can’t figure out what’s true.






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