Poetry

Christmas is the loneliest time of the year
as we remember those whom have passed along
and can never again be near.
An empty stocking on the fireplace
where a filled one should be,
the vacant place under the tree
where presents should be,
The empty space in our hearts
we carry with us all the time
and sadness lines our faces
that should be filled with smiles.
Christmas should be a time of celebration,
but with the empty spaces
there is no cheer here
in the loneliest time of the year.


9 December 2011