Back when I was “young and cute,”
With plans and hopes and dreams,
Thinking there was a “way”
Just to be
Successful
Happy
Beautiful and Bright
Like the lights that make their once yearly appearance.
Thought there’d be yearly Christmas photos on the beach
And driving to see lights.
Decorating together
And sharing spiked eggnog
And fireplace snuggles while
Entranced by packages tied up with strings
Shining brightly under the tree.
Instead.
Grown up silence that cuts like a knife
Dreaded chores and trips to the store
Longing glances at those now “young and cute” and hope filled,
Yet to be jaded and battered
By life’s trials.
Looking ahead at more slowing and loneliness
Regretting the should haves
Knowing for some things, it’s just too late.
Sentimental tears fall on middle aged cheeks
Where childish dreams used to live.
Replaced with practiced smiles and holding on to observed joy
Like beautiful holly with its spiked green leaves,
Grown-up Christmas without dreams.
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