Christmas Was

Christmas was, when I was young,
The barbie doll I never got
My brother on the violin
Meant for me, or maybe not
Because, after a year or two,
It lay collecting rust and dust
Within a mound of Christmas toys
That we, being children, soon forgot.

For Christmas comes but once a year
And older now, in Christmas cheer
Chaotic colour, food and sound
In sozzled heat and noise I drown
Sodden slowly sinking down
Still to spend and gain the pounds
In celebrating to excess
One finds that there is something less.

Christmas, now that I am old,
Is all the stories never told
And all the people yet to be
And missing presents under tree
For people who now cannot share
This time with me, and won't be there
For any Christmas yet to come
Christmas now, for me, is done.