I might not have liked all that you would say,
But I did believe, I did obey...
...Until that heartrending, fateful day.
When Santa died.
Now I mark the end of child years
With hurt confusion and broken tears,
Along new, darker paths of lonely fears.
Because you lied.
You said Santa Claus was so, you see,
When you knew in truth it not to be.
I wondered how else you fibbed to me,
A truth denied.
There's nothing worse than a trust betrayed,
To have an important 'fact' defrayed...
A foundation of your world unmade.
And so I cried.
Why must childhood so cruelly end?
It can't be the right message to send,
To show how well truth can mold and bend!
My pain aside.
How could you wonder that I would rebel?
I dragged us into a raging hell
That no soothing word could ever quell.
Christmas still became a special time
To feel family's warmth, hear carols chime.
But behind the laugh, in quiet rhyme,
It hurts inside.
- Title: Happy Holidays
- Artist: Hair Seed
- Description: I slipped down one Christmas Eve to tell the the grown-ups to go to bed. I was afraid Santa wouldn't come if they were still up. I chickened out at the last minute, but I noticed a playhouse being made in the living room out of cardboard. Next morning, everyone told me that Santa had left it. A blatant lie, and said so cheerfully. This poem addresses lingering hurt over that incident, although I obviously know now that no cruelty was intended by it.
- Date: 12/15/2008
- Tags: santa
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