Death of a Birthday


A child born long ago

His birthday approaches

Usually a time for me to rejoice

Be merry, merry, merry

As all typically are

But for me

Christmas this year isn't about this boy

Who may have existed

It's about the lights

The presents

The family

The food

The tree

The joy

But not the boy

Cause I don't seem to believe in much

Not anymore. . .