From Newsgroup: rec.arts.poems
Exile
Christmas morning 1995
About six months
into exile
Still some hope
And a whole lot of love.
Delivery of presents
Santa myth trashed
for my children
Not my design
Against my will.
Got the okay to stop by
I step in from another world
Bearing gifts
Smiles to mask
my smashed heart.
Memory and dreams
This may pass
But the final statement
The final f**k off gesture
To me.
Proof that I was no longer real
I no longer belonged
Was not that
I didn't get a gift
Not a single one.
But when I asked her
She said she had
given him a shirt.
Black day
December 25 1995
I sucked it up
Smiled at the kids
with holiday toys
Tried to hide
my nightmare of pain.
Sat in my old spot
North side if the sofa
Smiled a goodbye
And walked away into the big
The moor
To Shadowville,
already dead inside
Never to return.
-Will Dockery
(Original text restored.)
This is a response to the post seen at: http://www.jlaforums.com/viewtopic.php?p=659517986#659517986
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