I am safe here
There is no Christmas
in this room -
Save for Santa, hanging
Plush and spent
from a lamp-post
And the scattered remnants
Of the packaging
to some quickly forgotten toy

I am safe.
There is no Christmas here.
The happy smiling people
clean the dishes
and reminisce
in the kitchen
(Where I don't belong)
Telling a story for every person
Even the spoons, cups and saucers
have a story -
But there are none
For me.

I am safe -
In this room
Without Christmas.
Here I find I have
A name again
And my socks hang
From the bedpost -
And not the mantle

And though I am safe -
I can't help but recognize
That I am not unlike
The fogotten toy
And the strewn packaging -

Your joy is beautiful
It is!
But it is not mine.

I am safe -
But alone,
in this Christmas room

And I am a novelty
Wearing off.