Maybe Merry Christmas
Everything can't work out every year.
Reveling on holidays is very
Rough on those a little short of cheer.
Yet life goes on, and what was once consuming
Comes slowly to dissolve in humdrum days.
Hope returns, its rightful place resuming.
Rivers run their long and winding ways.
Instead of pain, one comes to revelation.
So does one not bury the remains,
Trading raw estrangement for relation,
Melding losses into harder gains.
As you are less than merry, with good reason,
So may you still find solace in the