Ghosts of Christmas Past

Ghosts of Christmas Past

It was the spring of my youth; self-esteem was so low

the biting words of elders chipped at my very soul.

they did and could not see or feel or love or know –

my heart should have been…what was there was a hole.

In the summer of my life, broken loves had filled my life

the hateful words stayed with me, never silence or stopped

to memories of ghosts, I wielded the knife

at the pain that was caused, my defenses always dropped.

In the fall of my days, brutal elders faced death

they weren’t the memories; yet the messengers of pain

etched in my brain, with each drawn breath

as their bodies were dying, should not be slain.

In the winter of my health, I took full blame

Cupids of anger and wrath were dead and gone

No longer will I be the tormenting shame

But feel the memories, and see the dawn.

Cycles of seasons and lessons of woe

stay with us forever, push us into the Light

confronting the ghosts, they leave us- quietly go

in the Christmas of our lives, that fateful chilling night.

To all who have wrestled with demons from their childhood.