Christmas is coming, my inner child is crying

We have no Christmas tree. I miss my childhood. I'm scared please someone hold me. Every Christmas from now on is going to be a reminder of how I'm no longer a kid and the magic is gone. Santa isn't real. Decorating a tree isn't fun. The magic is gone.

I went to Toys R Us the other day and bawled in a fetal position. I latched onto an stuffed Garfield and cried for innocence lost. The best days of our lives are gone, if only we were wise enough to know it back then. Funny how it works when you're young.

Now everything is get a job this, goto school that, stop sleeping with stuffed animals. Nothing is as it was and the nostalgia creeps in. Ironically during the most joyful time of the year, because nothing can hold the eggnog to the way it was when we were young. Back when happiness wasn't so fleeting and I didn't want to sock people who whistled in the face.

So as Christmas draws near I wrote a little poem to describe my feelings:

Oh Christmas
Christmas
How could you do this to me?
Oh Christmas
You're supposed to be fun but you bring me pain
Oh Christmas
Instead of presents you bring me pain
Oh Christmas
The ferns of the Christmas tree tear into my soul
Oh Christmas
Like fragrant needles of destruction
Oh Christmas
Ripping at my soul

Oh Christmas (x4)

I'm becoming a Jew.
- Christmas