It's a time when people are caring,
Kind and good-natured,
When they hand each other thoughtful gifts,
Smiles and cheers exchanged,
It is the birth of Jesus Christ.
Respect is required,
Judgements are forbidden,
Happiness is a must,
Sadness is not an option,
After allㅡit's Christmas.
It's all about truthfulness and hopefulness,
But how can I be true to myself if my life's full of lies?
How can I if hope is a four-lettered word full of shit?
All of this is fictitious.
It's a huge lie,
On this day,
No one is their sincere selves,
It's only an act,
People know,
And they play their roles,
Saying their own lines perfectly,
Nothing to add,
Nothing to cut off,
It's a sham,
Backstageㅡthey are malicious.
Why feel glee?
Why feel joy?
I am not who I am,
Why fake it?
Why play a character that is only imaginary?
You can call me injudicious,
But if you envision walking a mile in my shoes,
See what I had seen,
Hear what I had heard,
Feel what I had felt,
If you saw me jovial,
Wouldn't you be suspicious?
Sharing gifts,
Spending time with loved ones,
Decorating the Christmas tree,
They all sound extremely fun,
But how can you spend it?
When you know,
It's all unreal,
A pause from the wicked reality,
The thunder to the nearby storm,
This is only superstitious.
"Where's your Christmas spirit?"
Don't you understand?
I have no spirit,
You crushed it,
You killed it,
I'm only a body without a soul,
I'm a dead man walking,
Where's your Christmas spirit?ㅡlet me answer that,
You don't have one,
You are immoral,
Evil, and cruel,
Being nice wouldn't make up all of the sins you had made,
Why can't you admit that you're truly vicious?
Write a list,
Of your desires and wishes,
Hoping Santa would read it,
And you would wait in excitement,
Feeling disappointed and dispirited,
Not getting what you want.
That is only a quarter,
A fraction,
Of what I had to witness.
That sense of anger,
Sorrow and pessimism,
Is the aftermath of false faith.
And I question,
How much more can I handle?
I am stunned at my own hardiness.
This is only a show,
I can do nothing to change the matter,
I ignore the rage,
The pain,
The voices,
And I play my part.
I uncover myself to actuality,
Plaster the biggest,
The most realistic,
Fabricated smile on my face,
Greet the black-hearted world,
And say "Merry Christmas."
YOU ARE READING
Once Upon A Time
PoetryOnce upon a time, There was a girl who hid behind her bedroom door to cry her eyes out. Once upon a time, There was a boy who thought today was his last day. Once upon a time, A group of people in a community lived to assassinate; they are society...
