XPost: alt.arts.poetry.comments, alt.poetry   
   From: user3274@newsgrouper.org.invalid   
      
   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   
      
   ***   
      
   (Trolling by Cujo snipped, original text restored.)   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)