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Indestructible Despair of the Season

Bach tries valiantly but cannot melt away

The despair of the season.

I need the beautiful structures to

Eradicate the guilt from failure.

I need the perfect harmony

To give me peace and love and joy.

But Bach fails horribly and I cry.

 

“I’m no good,” comes up from hidden basements.

Mother judged and hated my

complete lack of thoughtfulness.

I could not be her son.

She with hundreds of feet of

Live greenery  plastered with the

Finest ornaments. Millions of ornaments.

Some joy together as we decorated, but

She always hated the tree we picked.

Her face showed us how we ruined her life.

We never found the right tree for Mother.

 

She said I made her cancer worse

Because I was so thoughtless.

My wishes were strong and potent, but

I could not eradicate the cancer, and I

Continued to fail.  The decorations were

Beautiful, but I ruined her Christmas.

She loved Christmas and she hated me.

It was not one Christmas;  it was thousands.

You give me thousands more, and I

Will never be good enough.

I make cancer worse, and

I am cancer to Christmas.

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  1. #1 by fillingahole on December 21, 2010 - 6:39 pm

    no sir.
    not at all…
    good poem.

    • #2 by Carl on December 22, 2010 - 1:09 am

      It has been a long battle to get over this, and I’m not done, but I think I’m getting better. It’s hard to be this open on it especially when it is contrary to everything that is right. I appreciate your comment.

  1. The Dilution of Christmas Terror « stillfugue

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