Maybe One Day

As Autumn sets in my mind begins to worry for what’s in store.
In two months Christmas will be here and I return to my shores.

No longer protected by continental refuge, I face my broken home.
Sharing time between my estranged parents, I feel so alone.

I look to my friends with envy as they rejoice in festive cheer.
Christmas is no longer a time to be merry, that much is clear.

We speak falsehoods as now is not the time to address our troubles.
But how much longer can we go on with this heartbreaking struggle?

Loving under false pretences has become the game we play.
Will I ever enjoy Christmas again? Maybe one day.

Seb Siracusa