Christmas Is The Hardest Time
Christmas is the hardest time
When in the bosom of kith and kin
Amidst the exited chatter
And rustle of discarded paper
Punctuated by the joyous laughter of children
And over exited grown ups
I made all the right noises
As I wore my painful smile
I opened my presents when prompted
“Oh isn’t that lovely” I cooed
“That’s just what I wanted” I lied
But what I actually wanted
Was to be somewhere else
Where there was no need of false delight
Or insincere thankful exclamations
Anywhere else but there
They are well meaning souls
Who thought to help me
By including my in their joyous celebrations
But they don’t understand my grief
Or the empty ache of a shattered heart
Each innocent Christmas ritual cut me like a knife
The familiar songs, once loved, now hurt
And each merry Christmas was a fresh cut
Losing you, my partner in life
Was like having a conjoined twin cut away
And among that happy crowd
My loneliness was most keenly felt
When all the excitement died away
I sat in silent contemplation
When sweet memories of happier days
Flooded into my mind to torture me
I hide it from the crowd
Keeping the pain and sorrow within
But so intertwined were our lives
I am left incomplete
I am in torment every day for the want of you
But Christmas is the hardest time
Copyright © Paul Curtis. All Rights Reserved
