The decorations are up, the lights aglow,
But my heart's not in it, my soul feels low.
I fake a smile, I play the part,
A Christmas charade, a hollow heart.
I cook the meals, I host the cheer,
But inside I'm crying, "Is it this year?"
The noise, the crowds, the endless small talk,
I just want to escape, and let my feelings walk.
Bah humbug, I mutter under my breath,
As I force a laugh, and pretend to be jovial in death.
But deep inside, I'm screaming to be free,
To just say no, and let the holiday be.
I wish for a moment, just one blink of the eye,
For it all to be over, and the new year to come by.
Not because I don't love the holidays' cheer,
But this year, it's just too much, I can't pretend, I'm sincere.
It's okay to feel this way, to not be in the mood,
To prioritize me, and my emotions, I've been rude.
It's hard to explain, to those who don't understand,
That sometimes, it's just a season, I need to take a stand.
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Author:
Nicole Pritchard (
Offline) - Published: December 3rd, 2025 18:24
- Comment from author about the poem: I’m not really feeling the holiday season this year.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
Offline)
Comments2
A poem I can identify with. Christmas was fun when my children were young, no longer. Spending money that one doesn't have on things that one doesn't need. Putting on parties to impress people you don't need to impress. I would vote for a simpler Christmas of peace, love and good will but then the economy would crash. A good write.
I would imagine 90% of people at Christmas go through the motions.
364 days you don't see them, then they all turn up, and you put up your imaginary machine gun but it's firing blanks.
Pass the sauce, old chap.
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