Nothing this year
compared to the last.
Newness and cheer
never meant to last.
A world so hard
and tempered mostly by pain.
Time has gone too far
and nothing ever will be the same.
Simple needs once met
and tools for doing so, gone.
Christmas's I forget,
in a world so wrong.
The year behind,
and nothing good lies in my sight.
Now all that is left is to put it out of my mind
and ignore the world until after Christmas night.
In the cold of the darkness in which I dwell,
the last one may have been meant to be the last.
Tiring of living, never wanting this hell,
my only Christmas wish, for it to be over fast.
About the Creator
Jason Ray Morton
Writing has become more important as I live with cancer. It's a therapy, it's an escape, and it's a way to do something lasting that hopefully leaves an impression.
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