The true gift

Altered sleep and a woven dream

A stocking outside the door that was always left unseen

A string of faith and a smile of trust

This is all I had on every Christmas.

My friends cheered with their hands full of candies;

I looked at my mum with a broken heart,

And endlessly asked myself “Do I never hit the old man’s chart”?

I have grown older and this eve I realised;

I have all that I ever wanted and wished

Old man I guess after all gave me what I preached.

He made me my own Santa all these years,

Today afternoon he whispered this truth in my ears.

Originally published at reemasathe.com on December 24, 2014.