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Christmas Depression Poems | Christmas Poems About Depression

These Christmas Depression poems are examples of Christmas poems about Depression. These are the best examples of Christmas Depression poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Tanka | |

SAD

Grey sky confusion -
a bruised brooding December.
Sharp as spruce and myrrh
tears fall, strike bauble light, salve
this cold Christmas contusion.




for 'Not So Happy Holidays' contest

Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot

Details | Narrative | |

That Spark of Hope

A little girl lost her home this year, for her, Christmas wouldn't be there.
Her family was angry from all the troubles, they simply couldn't repair.
Don’t bother us about presents her parents said, they were depressed by their fate.
With bitterness they said, you’d be lucky to have dinner tonight, or even a plate.
Life was harsh, nowhere to go, anger and fear had put their souls, in a terrible place.
The little girl had found no hope or joy, lurking near their old car, of late.
The car was their home, gas money was scarce, and with few places they could park.
Yes, their troubles had slowly extinguished, that precious hopeful spark.
Without that spark, they’d never find their way, from this terrible place of cold and dark.
And life’s darkness grew deeper nightly, as hope vanished under a reality so stark.
Even the very fiber of her family, seemed to be shattering slowly, slowly, apart.
The child felt alone here in this dark car, as sadness tried to engulf her little girls heart.
The future seemed filled with hopelessness, as shame and dread, were leaving their mark.
Embarrassment to be seen and turned away, made it hard for them to reach out, to restart.
But life goes on, and we can’t fear to rebuild, or the future will be hard to impart.
The girl suddenly declared there’s more to life, and she wouldn't let it conquer her heart.
She decided triumphs will come, and all will get better, if she held to that hopeful spark.
Seeing the desolation and anger here, she couldn't stay around, she had to get away…
So she climbed out of the car, and she walked into town, not so very far to stray.
She went and looked at the store windows, where Christmas was being displayed.
The music and people filled her heart, lifting her spirits, deep inside, that day.
She noticed a store, way down at the end of the row, on the next block, where it lay.
No one was there, it seemed lonely, and the darkness was again, spreading it’s decay.
She ran there in time to see an old man closing up, with sadness on his face betrayed.
What use were his goods, if no one would shop, or come down along his way?
The super store down the block, was daily making him lose more and more in the fray.
He could no longer afford to hire people, and the season had very little time, to stay.
As they talked the girl saw that she couldn't let the darkness take another, so she prayed.
Then she told the old man, if he’d open the shop, she’d bring customers down his way.
She added, she’d find reasonable workers, if her family could live upstairs, she portrayed.
First bring the customers, he said, and the rest will be yours little friend, he conveyed.
She had him put his best toys, as a contest prize, and to add lots of lights on the display.
He set a contest, “Winners-the best collectors for families in need” on Christmas Eve.
He put out a bright contest sign, but still nobody came to his end of the block, to survey.
So she had him call the Salvation Army, for a kettle, Bell ringer, and Carolers, who came 
Lickety split, their way.
Then she had him call a dear old friend, and farmer, to bring a tractor full of bails of hay.
Another volunteered his horse and sleigh, both, to see the city lights thru New Years Day.
This was a great idea, since the older drivers, could use the help, for their bills to pay.
The girl ran all over spreading the excitement, and to come see the prizes, his way.
The families suddenly started heading toward his door, and to those wondrous rides.
At that moment her parents came, and she explained what her hope, had improvised.
Her father talked a contractor into building a disabled family a home, to help advertise.
He could get a tax break; come to this store for supplies, and hire unemployed workers, he devised, so wise.
In the end, each night grew brighter, because of a girls hope, and heart-warming delight.
And the old man began smiling for the first time, in a long, long, time, starting that night.
All was saved, a home was found, and another built, as a sad little girl taught grownups to smile along the way… 
You might say, A Spark of Hope lit a candle, then a raging fire, which was burning bright by Christmas day.

The moral to my story is:
Never give up on Hope; it’s your best friend, as life brings its troubles your way…
Know that with time, a good heart, good will, and friendly ways… 
You can find God’s gifts again, if you don’t let the dark take you away…

Copyright © Carol Eastman

Details | Epic | |

young American days


              
                   To be in a young America ~
           visions of a ship upcoming statue of Liberty
               the young lad holding tightly to his Mothers leg
             in all excitement of a new Land to call their own
      celebrations of apple pie and fireworks on the 4th of July 
          
             thoughts of the old Hollywood on screen 
                films without 3-D costing less then a dollar
        Greta , Monroe , Betty Davis eyes tantalizing blue glare
       The Wizard of Oz or books written by Steinbach, Capote, Mark Twain

             exciting new visions of creating new concepts 
                 before Capitalism bought all little ones to bigger
           songs came from the hills of Virginia to the black Mountains
               surfacing in Tennessee for all to hear and wish to see  

          The day when one travelled by car on the road travelled
             every town a story told , learning history we once shed blood 
         American Indian tears to the British man whom choose freedom of taxes
            Boston held a tea party , now wishing they threw out marmite instead
 
         The day when we knew our neighbors and bought homes with a paystub
             Everyone had a chance to make their own with pride , even through wars
        When Martin Luther King stood proudly as did President Lincoln for Freedom 
             How many streets have been named after the man whom had a dream ?

             When milk was delivered on doorsteps in Glass bottles 
                 Babies wanting the very first of the top being cream 
             leaving doors open , watching news with your family at 6pm
                cartoons were shut down and it was now grown up time 

                      Cereal being a cheap snack for after school 
                         school supplies costing twenty dollars 
                      Grandma school clothes shopping for fifty 
                   before the internet , cell phones , and text for hello ~

                         2 week Vacations not afraid to put up Camp 
                Christmas sold in December with the sentiment of Love not money
        a day when if one were sick , you could actually get penicillin without question 
         The Doctor treated everything calling it General Practice no fear of Malpractice 

               Never forgetting our Motor city  
                 Old Ford Trucks Chevrolets and Dodge
                  The city that brought Ottis Reding and Marvin Gaye 
               

                     What happened to us ?  Where did America Go ? 

                   

         
  

Copyright © Shanity Rain

Details | Rhyme | |

A Single Leaf Out of A Tree

A single leaf, 
Falls out of a tree above me,
 As it twist and turn, 
The wind blows it in my direction, 
It symbolizes the ending point of my 
struggles and all my pain, 
It tells me that they twist and turn, 
But never remain, 
It takes a sudden fall next to me, 
But why? 
It symbolizes the thought of being 
alone, 
It tells me that someone is always 
by my side, 
As I write, 
The leaf flies away, 
As if it had a huge success in 
incouragement, 
Nature communicates with us in 
many ways, 
Not with words, 
But with a single leaf out of a tree.

Copyright © Anthony Scandrick II

Details | Narrative | |

Christmas Rebels

Christmas Rebels
It was about a weak
After that night walk
The unknown dangers, 
Made known, turned me weak,
I was managing myself,
After my heart was pulled,
From where it sank,
I was yet in the oven,
Of my haven,
To dry up the coldness,
And the wetness, 
Of that fearful night loneliness,

Today is Christmas,
The whole mass,
Was joyous,
Every home, glorious,
Meat was plenteous, 
Rice and beans.
Was every homes means,
Children bouncing in,
New goat skin jackets,
Mother’s dressed in costly
Beads and all the way,
Father leads.
For Christmas had taking over,
Taking over the African Shrine,
It supplied a joyous sunshine.
Our pockets were full of cowries,
Like a goldmine,
Happiness was mine,
For the usual war seemed 
To be hidden, and our teethes where like, 
“Forever opened”.

Oh! Joyful, blissful, plentiful Christmas.
Providing joy each time it surface, 
But joy has a slender waist that breaks so soon.
Christmas night came, so we visited 
Our beds as night rang it’s bell,

(To be continued in the next, same Poem).

Copyright © Charles Melody Lightning Ink

Details | Narrative | |

Christmas Rebels (2).

But night’s bell came with tears and without love,
As our bamboo door talked,
“KNOCK! KNOCK!!”
Before my voice could speak,
Legs ruined down my door,
Then eyes in different heights
In the starry night like 
Torch lights… attacked 
Me with their voices.
They came in mass,
Some brandishing cutlass,
Some matchets, guns and arrows.
Gang upon gangs,
Displaying their flags,
Blood stained, tattered, hair, shaggy.
They held human heads for their 
Oracles of war.
They were muttering songs as if 
Forced to sing,
They had leaves and grasses in the 
Middle of their mouths, they were mostly teens, 
They were the Hausa rebels… 
“Wait! Wait!! Wait!!!
Where are the bells?
Is this day not Christmas?”
I was asking myself,
A short tick man came out of the mass,
Not looking like human,
He looked backed at the rest,
Feeling like the best.
He weakened my hear drums 
By the manner of his question,
“Hausa or Birom?”.
To send my religion to the bottom?
Whom for this day, is Christmas? 
And sweet Messiah’s Calvary at Golgotha?
I wasn’t prepared for that, 
So the truth came out like a blast
“Birom!!”.
“Yee! Yee!! Yee!!!
Enemy tribes” they shouted 
Like savage talking drums.

(To be continued in the next, same Poem).

Copyright © Charles Melody Lightning Ink

Details | Couplet | |

Unknown

Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?

Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.

And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.

I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep. 

Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.

And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.

Copyright © Kristopher Higgs

Details | Rhyme | |

What If Christmas Never Came

What If… Christmas Never Came??? What if Christmas never happened? What if Christmas never came? Things around here would be different! It wouldn’t be the same! What if the baby Jesus was never born in a manger? Mankind would be in serious trouble! We’d all be in danger! If the baby Jesus wasn’t born. There would be no nativity. We wouldn’t be able to display this during our “festivity.” It’s almost like this now! It’s an “ever increasing business.” It seems like nearly everyone wants “Christ out of Christmas!” Why does it seem like Christmas is losing it’s true meaning? The very words; “Merry Christmas,” seem to be quickly disappearing! Many say; “Happy Holiday.” They worry they may “offend.” Having a “holiday” without Christ…. Once again! We need to put Jesus Christ back into our CHRISTmas season! He is what Christmas is about! HE is the very reason! May we all take some time to rejoice in our savior’s birth. May there be shouts of JOY! From the corners of the earth! Let’s not take Christ out of our joyous celebration! We need him so much right now! All over this great nation! May we bring to him a heart of love for everything he’s done. As we bring honor to Christ. God’s precious son! May we continually offer to him a heart filled with praise! Not only at Christmas time… But all of our days! By Jim Pemberton 12/05/11

Copyright © Jim Pemberton

Details | Lyric | |

Christmas Blues

Christmas was never about God for me,
it was memories of warm laughter, rosy cheeked joys   	
for if God was the point, whose God would it be?

Xmas was about giving to your protégées.	
Long, long, lost wishes of long broken boy toys,
Christmas was never about God for me.

Winter’s height held the beauty of childhood set free
of hunting and wrapping and folks overjoyed	
for if it was God, we had three, whose God would it be?

This December wonder now past, gone you see,
gone with the cold, I’d not wish despair on July, this killjoy
for Christmas was never about God for me.

Once a year Xmas marks a sad crying spree
with nobody wanting to be home and little joy employed
for if God were the point, my son would be with me?

Perhaps, with grandchildren there be a jubilee
and this hollowed out husk of me will be destroyed
And Christmas will be about God for me
for it could be so, whose god will it be?

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Elegy | |

Saddest Christmas Ever

-DECEMBER 25,2:37 AM-

SHE WAS THINNING 'WAY-
HER COLOUR GOING GRAY
WHILE SHE DROWNED IN SWEAT:
"GERALD,HAVE YOU SLEPT?"

HER VOICE SO OLD,
AND GAVE ME THE COLD.
BUT HOW COULD I SLEEP
WHILE MUM'S LIFE COULD CREEP...?

I HAD BEEN CRYING
WEEPING AND WEEPING
SILENTLY FOR HER-
MY MOTHER WAS DYING..

I CREPT FROM MY BED:
NO LIGHTS; POOR AND SAID-
I HELD HER WEAK HANDS-
COLD WITHOUT LIFE'S TAN:

I HEARD HER BREATHING-
AND MY HEART CRAVING
FOR MAMA'S GOOD HEALTH.
"BUT," I ASKED MYSELF:

"WHY MUST SHE SUFFER
NEAR A WEEPING SON?"
AND WHERE WAS FATHER?
HE WAS DEAD AND GONE.

I WEPT AS I THOUGHT.
"RETURN TO YOUR COT,
YOU NEED A NIGHT'S SLEEP."
SHE SPOKE, MY HEART LEAPED.

"I SHALL BE HERE UNTIL
 DEATH IS NOT FULFILLED-
YOU SHALL NEVER DIE
ELSE I SHALL GHASTLY CRY."

SHE PRESSED ME TO HER HEART
AND GAVE ME A GENT' PAT.
"GERALD,PLEASE LET US SLEEP
AND MY SON DO NOT WEEP.

"IF I DIE, THEN GOD CALLED
CAUSING WEEPS TO COME FORTH-
BUT DO PRAY FOR MY SOUL,
TO REST IN HAVEN'S HOLD."

"BUT MUM," I CRIED."DO STOP."
"SON," SHE CONTINUED."DEATH 
IS INHERENT TO LIFE.
DEATH COMES 'ROUND AS WE STRIVE."

I TOOK HER HANDS IN MINE
FEELING THEM FREEZING,KIND:
-THUS ENDED HER EARTHLY STAY,
WHILE I STILL HAD MUCH TO SAY.....

...AND EVERY LAUGHTER EVAPORATED
FROM MY FACE  AS EVERY CHRISTMAS 
BRINGS SAD MEMORIES
BACK TO MIND......

-BY GERALDARTS
CONTEST NAME-"Saddest" Christmas Ever
SPONSOR-Constance La France


Copyright © Gerald Nforche

Details | Heroic Couplets | |

Holiday Tears

'Tis Christmas time once again
  And much to my everlasting chagrin
I cannot seem to stop the tears
 No matter the passing years.

Christmas used to be such fun
 The kids up before the rising sun.
Smiles, giggles, and what not
 To see what Santa had brought.

Wrapping paper everywhere
 No one had a single care
For it was Christmas Day
 Their one day to just play.

I awake now with a groan
 As now I feel I  am all alone.
No visible happiness to share
 Nothing, but this utter despair.

There is no imminent joy
 Neither tree nor even a toy
As this day, yet again is here
 I clearly have no holiday cheer.

At work I do smile
 But nothing worthwhile
As you look into my eyes
 The smile is one of many lies.

No one seems to care
 About my growing despair
Or have I kept it hid so well
 That no one sees my secret hell?

Whatever the case may be
 Pain will not let go of me.
There are no happy cheers
For me, there is just these holiday tears.

Copyright © Kristy De La Keur Scoveille

Details | Free verse | |

Christmas 2009

Recession made Christmas harder than ever before
Family’s splitting – money the core
Dad’s leaving to live on the street
So that young hungry mouths are able to eat
That some extra cash might be in the house
and children might learn what Christmas is about?
But without Dad gone, roof would be lost
for the bills are much higher – we can’t meet the cost
No longer can the average family budget
2009, jobs lost, even working struggle to afford it
Commercialism needs to stop building hopes and dreams
Childern don’t understand you are busting at the seams
Disappointment reigns as kids outside taunt and tease
No longer we fit in we’re all on our knees
Sinking. Even love has fallen apart
We don’t want this Christmas just haven’t the heart!
Expectation lower, depressions set in
Politicians not helping the hole we’re all in
Instead raising taxes they’ll crucify more
and this miserable life could be at your door
Will someone tell them that family should be together
sharing love, life, hopes dreams whatever they weather

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty

Details | Rhyme | |

Whiskey Christmas

It was Christmas Eve; I was a prisoner of my own divide.
Lost in mind, clad in drunken sadness, caged up inside.
Alone and forlorn my thoughts laden with whiskey lies,
Memories seem so distant, only a week since goodbyes.
Christmas tree glistening, blurry in my vision of tears,
Flashing lights bright, neighbors Christmas party cheers.
No presents or joy in this household upon this night.
Sorrows, misguided gulps of liquor, cloud my sight.
Heartbroken, gloomy devouring the demon filled drink.
No more, no less, my eyes roamed over as I did think.
Hopelessly lost in a whirlwind of memories of no more,
No more, love by a lover, no daughter to teach the score.
Left me in a house, no longer our home that we shared,
Only I and this half-empty bottle, feeling impaired.
She left me, taking my child a thousand miles away.
While here in this house of torture, me and myself stay.
Every corner a recollection blinks by crystalline light.
Splintered and speckled by the twinkling star so bright.
Atop the now barren tree which had shined with joys.
Years before cluttered with wrappers, boxes and toys 
I slam a big gulp down my throat, since this was my first.
Night of my debut to the evil of whiskey blinding thirst,
Never before had drunkenness been a quest or even a try,
This night she devoured my soul, not wanting ever to cry.
Intoxication was a desire, though not ever beyond joy.
My virgin body of drink has choked me unable to deploy.
Sour mash tears wash down my face, wiping my eyes.
I hear my built up agony; pour out in inhuman cries.

User Name  Cecil Hickman

Sponsor Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~ 
Contest Name Your "Saddest" Christmas Ever 

Copyright © cecil hickman

Details | Lyric | |

A Gray Christmas

The little boy sits by the christmas tree 
Full of light and color
Trying to figure out what all the colors are
He puts his little hands on the ornaments
Trying to see what they are
Feeling them
He steps back and falls over a present
He feels around the box trying to open it
Only seeing alittle 

Mean while on the phone..

his mom is talking to the doctor

"do you think he will be able to see by christmas?" she says
The doctor replies "theres no guarentees, he is 67 % blind, when we did the test with him, he described the color blue as a dark black, and a yellow as a light gray, your son only sees in black and white and im not sure if we can fix that. but we will do our best"

A breathe escapes from her lips as she turns and looks at her son
The doctor explains "his surgery is set for Dec. 7th. be here around 8 am and we will see what we can do, im trully sorry"
He hangs up.

Back in the living room

The boy stands up and walks over to his mom
"mom, have you seen the christmas lights?" he says

She replies "yes sweety i have."

He hugs her leg and says "are they black and white?"

She answers "no sweety" she points to a light bulb on the tree

"this one is blue" she smiles

He grabs the light bulb and repeats "this one is blue" and giggles

She lays him down in his bed as he quickly falls asleep

She sits down on the chair and thinks
"to me. because my son cannot see the beautiful lights and feel the joys of christmas, everything is gray for me. nothing will fill my empty heart"


There are no smiles, when everything is gray, when you cant see the colors of a bright day



Copyright © Orlin Collier

Details | I do not know? | |

Dark Christmas

3 am.
The alarm clock in my head wakes me with a 
silent clanging.
Outside, the rain is falling so hard. It sounds like someone's
trying to break into my room.
Jesus.
It's Christmas Day.
It might as well be August 25th because the conversation in my head has not changed
since then. "You are a piece of shit."
I think of things I need to worry about, things I've worried about since August 25th and way before that.
My anxiety runs through my veins like hot chemo.
I stagger to the living room and stare at the half-decorated Christmas tree ...
gold balls weighing down one side. Empty green takes up the other. Oh, there are two figurines of kittens that I bought at a garage sale in Staten Island in 1998.
God. 3:10 am.
A whole day to spend by myself.
Not a fake friend in sight today, with their banal conversations about picking up their laundry or meeting at the gym at whatever time to do arms or back.
Just as well; I get a blank stare from them when I want to talk about chasing happiness or being childless at 53.
The TV is my savior. It pulls me out of myself.
Bing Crosby comes on singing "White Christmas." He's dancing
with those two impossibly shiny bleached blondes. And they all have those white, almost blue American teeth -- not one out of place.
12 pm.
I wake up on the couch and "White Christmas" is still playing; it must be a marathon.
Outside, the rain has turned to snow and there are two messages on my phone -- from Christian friends inviting me to their houses for the day.
It's tough being a Buddhist on Christmas. OK, so I know, as the Buddhists say, everything is OK as long as I let it be OK.
But this is one day of the year I don't want to "be."
I consider whether to shower. It takes 10 minutes to decide. I let the hot water run down my back, and I don't know if it's burning from the water or my nerve endings.
I don't want to face Christmas - but I have decided to join life and go to Cory's to see his kids, stare at the tree and eat some turkey.
I decide to take a Xanax, and I stick one in my pocket as assurance.
Maybe some of this gloom will yet lift from my heart.

Copyright © don munro

Details | Tanka | |

A-NOT-SO-JOLLY CHRISTMAS

Doesn't Christmastime mean
presents, carols and cheers?
But for one it won't
be a jolly Holiday
diagnosed with breast cancer.

Copyright © Andrew Crisci

Details | Free verse | |

CHRISTMAS HOPE


Christmas, my Christmas!
The tree is all set up
The lights are all bright
Yuletide bells ringing
Christmas music is singing
Colorful wreath adorns the doorway
A sprig of mistletoe atop the door frame
Christmas flowers are everywhere
A beautiful red velvety site!
The mountains are snow glad
Leaves of trees are Christmas humming
Gifts are all embellished with laces and ribbons
Food is still warm, untouched 
till the Christmas candles wear out

Now done with the hustle and bustle,
the waiting has begun 
                               again
And I cry,
           saying -
Christmas, my Christmas!
Where are you all these years?



Copyright © Wendy Meyer

Details | Light Poetry | |

GOD'S HOLY CHRISTMAS CHEER

Hello folks. The following poem I've written was a request from a group who suffer with mental health and depression. They asked me if I could possibly write a poem about depression with a link to Christmas. Well, as I've been there - I wrote the poem exactly how I felt. I am reading my poem at a local church on Sunday. Thank you - and May God Bless Us All. 


GOD'S HOLY CHRISTMAS CHEER
 

When your heart does 
break – everything 
seems trivial, 
Your life has no 
meaning – and you 
turn to taking a pill. 

The pill does help you 
cope – as life does 
get you down, 
And every day that 
you wake up – you 
feel you want to 
drown. 

Your head is all over 
the place – your 
insides feel like jelly, 
And sometime’s on 
occasions – you want 
to jump off a jetty. 

You cannot explain – 
the way your insides 
feel, 
So the best thing you 
can do – is try to 
pleasantly kneel. 

To say a prayer to god 
up high, and pray you 
will recover, 
Because no matter how 
bad you feel – there’s 
always a new born 
saviour. 

Just lift up your heart 
as high as you are able, 
Then come and eat the 
food – laid out on the 
table. 

The food of love – and 
the water to bless – 
Will it work – it’s 
anyone’s guess? 

Always think positive – 
never be negative – 
Leave that for the 
journalist – is that 
confirmative? 

You can beat this 
illness – and that’s for 
sure, 
Happiness and love – 
are the perfect cure. 

Ignore the evil that 
invades, and life will 
again be fine, 
All you need is God’s 
own love – and you 
will feel sublime. 

Just take a breath – 
and you’ll see the sign, 
And, maybe, if you’re 
lucky – take a sip of 
wine? 

So, God Bless all of us, 
at this time of year – 
And allows us all to 
celebrate – God’s Holy’ 
Christmas Cheer. 

BY 
DARRYL ASHTON

Copyright © Darryl Ashton

Details | Acrostic | |

Bipolar's Christmas

Beautifully happy now on meds
Insightful from last year's low 
Peacefully enjoying the stability
Ongoing treatments that helped me grow
Longing for non-irritability or mania
Anxiety no more this holiday
Rendering all my soul 
Sinking in his greatness as I pray


Christ has me in his hands 
Holidays can be stressful for those who are sick
Remember that our meds and help
Inviting all that's good to do the trick
Somehow be childish in the tale of Saint Nick
Together bipolars can enjoy this whole month
Magically intuned with those not indisposed
Ask us how you may be able to help
Same as you, bells, mistletoe and all that's grandiose

Copyright © Lauren Smith

Details | Cowboy | |

Christmas Toy

I'm just an old cowboy Christmas toy
One that's not feeling all that fine
That's because all I want for Christmas is to be a kids toy
One that will always be mine

I'm just an old cowboy Christmas toy
To all you grandfolks I do plead
Stright from this old cowboy's heart
Please find a lonesome kid for me

I'm just an old cowboy Christmas toy
One that's always been left behind
'N let me tell ya, at Christmas time, that don't feel very fine
All it does is to make want to cry

I'm just an old cowboy Christmas toy

HAPPY CHRISTMAS
TRULY BillyWild
p o 8 c o w b o y @ a o l . c o m

Copyright © Billy Wild

Details | Verse | |

DECEMBER GHOST

Shivers all over the atmosphere
Fevered by a bizarre spirit
Enrobbed in a shroud of grey, hovering
In the dry weird hemisphere
Within the graveyard curtain of mist
And lurking behind the skeletal frames of trees!

Have you too seen the ghost?
Or have you not felt it when it appears?
There it hovers freely in a whirl
Through the ambience of December
And causes the skin to whiten and shiver
And eyes wide open with expectation
And the hairs prickled with anxiety!

There it goes and vanish...here beside
It has cast a spell of Dementia
On a young man Mr. Jones, being alone
Maybe because he has no wife with him
No lover, no money and more so
He could not be with his family
Who will regard him as a Nobody!

It also bewitched with melancholy and frailty
Abandoned and unprotected children
Orphaned in homes without soup or bread.
It curse too those whose tables are full
And go on spree of extravagance
With swell of recklessness and vanity!

Copyright © ITSOGHOLE O SOLOMON

Details | Rhyme | |

BRINGING A FAMILY TOGETHER

When their very young dad went to jail,
they surely lived in a realistic Hell...
I would hear the youngest one cry over an article she read.
Who had taken her daddy away was too cruel;
nothing they said would make her understand,
why didn't the harsh judge break some rule?


The judge's sentence was based on actual fact,
no pleads from the children softened her hard heart as she read the sentence,
" He committed this crime to feed his family so ashamed of his act,
and even dragged his younger brother along to help him steal by cutting fences. "
Then she made an eye-opening statement, " I must abide by the Law,
I am a judge of justice and fairness...not much I can do in this case;
let him behave and his sentence will be reduced in ten years. "
Everyone in the courtroom started to sob...tears began to flow.


I visited them often, and they seemed different people who couldn't admit
what he did was wrong, assuming he was innocent;
their smiles became cheerless, their words loveless:
a part of them was taken away, lost to hopelessness...
the younger daughter locked herself into her room, 
refused to talk to anyone and building that wall deepened her gloom.


Even this year they will not celebrate Christmas with the old thrill,
shopping for presents in crowded malls has lost that excited will,
not even the merriest Santa can make them smile with a jingle bell;
and he must think that they are strange kids who don't love the Holidays, 
perhaps reading them the Nativity Story will change their moody ways...
and to bring this family together will take patience and lots of prayers.


How would I ask Jesus, the new-born, who would love to see these kids at midnight?
They must show love to make this miracle happen on Christmas Eve; it has to start
with a heartfelt wish and deep faith, then the Heavens will suddenly open up...
as angels will descend to sing the hymn they sang before they desperately wept. 
 

Copyright © Andrew Crisci

Details | Prose | |

Black Christmas

                                         Black Christmas
 
Black Christmas, is not a time with little children hanging out their stockings
Or about Santa coming down the chimney pot and delivering presents
Nor Rudolph and the reindeers pulling Santa's sled it goes deeper than that
To the darker side of Christmas, it is a story of the homeless and poverty stricken
The people who have nothing to look forward to at Christmas time, no Santa,
A time were young and old people can't take life any more and tell themselves
It is time to move on to another world and they commit suicide as their only release
Yes this is society today, which was created by Governments and very rich people
Who are really serving the Devil, by being selfish and greedy and turning their backs
On society, they forever increase charges on bills and utility services, making people 
Go without electricity to cook with, and foreclosing mortgages on people's houses
Leaving families homeless and destitute, young woman, men and children are living
On sidewalks, railway stations and park benches, with no real place to live.
Yes this is Christmas, Black Christmas we are now experiencing, so no matter were
You live there is no escape from this sub standard way of life for these people.
The rich enjoy their life and could not care less as the governments grease their palms
for re-election pledges as they both support each other for the better life ahead.
While they are having a turkey banquet, some poor soul is freezing to death 
That have very little clothing or a place to keep warm, yes this is indeed a Black Christmas.
 

Copyright © John Ginesi

Details | I do not know? | |

For Jeramiah Jay Cook

Late at night, my eyes are burning
as I try not to cry.
I hold my breath and wonder
why you had to die.

I try so hard to fight the tears
as I lay around and dream.
Memories of younger years...
I choke instead of scream.

You battled many problems
and overcame many things...
and you were only a child, 
No, an angel without wings.

You never had the most attention, 
but you never seemed to complain.
But suddenly everyone’s in tears, 
just whispering your name.

You won't get to live the life
you very much deserved.
No job, no kids, just shattered dreams
because you've left this earth.

You were only sixteen.
Its not right that you're gone. 
Your heart quit beating, 
but didn't quit loving.
Your spirit will live on.

My heavy heart is filled with regret.
I didn't say I love you, or goodbye.
And with memories I'll never forget, 
you taught me how to fly.

Sometimes I wish I could turn back time, 
if only for a day.
After all, God answers prayers, 
but this one is thrown away.

My vision is blurred with tears, 
I miss you so bad. 
But I close my eyes and see you clear
and don't feel quite as sad.

Pretty soon I'll be grown up
but you'll still be sixteen.
but like you said, 
God has a plan, 
and in the end I'll see.




*Note*
Jeramiah Jay Cook, my cousin, "buba" and friend passed away Christmas of 2004 at a party. 
Rumors fly about what it really was. Alcohol, pills.. it had only been 2 months since his own 
mothers death (mine had died in 96') and so he got his Christmas wish.. to spend it with his 
Mom. He has been having a really hard time with with substance abuse, but it was far from 
what I expected when my Aunt called Christmas morning.. Someone I had always looked up 
to, and grown up with.

Copyright © Ashley Beaudre

Details | Free verse | |

Your Will Be Done

You did this, you pushed the wrong buttons,
It was not supposed to end this way.
So now I hide behind these blinds,
I begged and pleaded you to stay. 

You never saw that what i sacrificed for you was way beyond my powers,
But input everything aside for you and now you bring out the sorrows. 
So thank you for showing me what your expectations were with me so you earned your crown,
So I say this as my finial words, "May Your Will Be Done".

Copyright © Roman Chebukin

Details | Rhyme | |

Happy Holidays Or Merry Christmas

What if Christmas wasn't here? What if Christmas disappeared? Whenever December came... It just wouldn’t be the same! What if the baby Jesus was never born in a manger? The true meaning of Christmas would be in danger! If this happened... There would be no nativity. We wouldn’t have Christ' peace and tranquility! It’s almost like this now! It’s an “ever increasing business.” It seems like nearly everyone wants “Christ out of Christmas!” Why does it seem like Christmas is losing it’s true meaning? The very words; “Merry Christmas,” seem to be quickly disappearing! Many say; “Happy Holiday.” For fear they may “offend.” Having a “holiday” without Christ…. Once again! We need to put Jesus Christ back into our CHRISTmas season! He is what Christmas is about! HE is the very reason! May we all take some time to rejoice in our savior’s birth. May there be shouts of JOY! From the corners of the earth! Let’s not take Christ out of our joyous celebration! We need him so much right now! All over this great nation! May we bring to him a heart of love for everything he’s done. As we bring honor to Christ. God’s precious son! May we continually offer to him a heart filled with praise! Not only at Christmas time… But all of our days! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton

Details | Rhyme | |

Wind

Sitting in my car
Christmas Eve loving from afar
The peoples hatred infect my veins 
Call by fall life brings the pain

The bird isn't happy without it's other
Alone in the night - it plucks it's feathers
The blood flows through the tainted greyness 
It's so Fu*king sad how circumstance makes us
Believe in a world where all is one and one is all...
You used my feathers to break your fall

Yet still I pull
Heart on the floor
Beating still but made a fool
No Blood flows from my gaping wound
Just a hole that still hurts
when the wind blows through
So with these feathers dotted along this empty cage
This year left me nothing but the end of another day

Addam Hughes
Christmas Eve 2010

Copyright © Addam Hughes

Details | Rhyme | |

What If Christmas Never Came


 UNSUPPORTED CODE What If…   Christmas Never Came???

What if Christmas never happened?  
What if Christmas never came?
Things around here would be different! 
It wouldn’t be the same!

What if the baby Jesus was never born in a manger?
Mankind would be in serious trouble. We’d all be in danger!

If the baby Jesus wasn’t born.  There would be no nativity.
We wouldn’t be able to display this during our “festivity.”

It’s almost like this now! 
 It’s an “ever increasing business.”
It seems like nearly everyone wants
  “Christ out of Christmas!”

Why does it seem like Christmas is 
 losing it’s true meaning?
The very words; “Merry Christmas,” 
seem to be quickly disappearing!

Many say; “Happy Holiday.”  
They worry they may “offend.”
Having a “holiday” without Christ….  
Once again!

We need to put Jesus Christ back into 
our CHRISTmas season!
He is what Christmas is about!  HE is the very reason!

May we all take some time to rejoice in our savior’s birth.
May there be shouts of JOY!  From the corners of the earth!

Let’s not take Christ out of our joyous celebration!
We need him so much right now! 
 All over this great nation!

May we bring to him a heart of love
 for everything he’s done.
As we bring honor to Christ.  God’s precious son!

May we continually offer to him a heart filled with praise!
Not only at Christmas time…  But all of our days!

By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton

Details | Rhyme | |

From the Womb

From the womb there is a life that wants to live
From the womb there is a life that has something to give
A life that may grow up to become a doctor
A life that may grow up to become a lawyer
Or maybe that life will write a novel like Tom Sawyer
But maybe that life won't happen
Because its mother has another plan
A plan to abort this unique life
A unique life that will undoubtedly become so special
So special in fact that it will bear the image of God
And God will want this life to have an important impact
On the many lives it will come into contact
But again the mother's plan is to abort this life, from the womb
So how do we convince this mother not to dump it in the tomb
The tomb that houses all the aborted lives throughout the years
And also contains from ten thousand angels their many tears
So if you can talk to this mother and tell her the life inside her
Is a life created by God and considered to be an important one
You will have done something very bold and brave
To turn her around, to give her baby a chance to live

Copyright © David Hoppe

Details | I do not know? | |

Christmas

T'was the night before Christmas
And all through the house not a single noise could 
be heard
For, you see, the only one up
Had practise of being quiet 
even when she's screaming inside
With hand over mouth,
and tears streaming down her face
She silently sobbed the night away
The only festive colour running from her wrists
The only thing she wanted for Christmas
Was to be dead.

Copyright © Teenage Frustrations