Christmas
By BitterPill
Christmas, will not be Christmas this year. No, it will never be the same. All I have are memories of holiday past. In my heart they remain chained. There will be no glimmering tree, all shiny and bright with lights. No one to sing the Christmas carols, that would echo through winters night. The smell of orange biscuits, lingering to engulf our senses. Or myself, with childish anticipation, as the excitement largely tenses. Such pleasant rememberances, to carry me through. To lead me from the lonliness, as my heart so misses you. Joyeux Noël, Mum et papa Written December 20th, 2001 © on Dec 20 2001 04:33 AM PST 18 • 0 • 10
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"Christmas, will not be Christmas this year...."