No Christmas cards this time of year, no one sends them anymore,
no Christmas tree to decorate, no Yuletide wreathe on the door.
No one comes to visit, to wish him Christmas cheer,
all alone in a tiny room, an old man sips his beer.
The radio softly playing all the Christmas songs,
the old man contemplating all the world's wrongs.
No mistletoe, no manger scene, no star of Bethlehem,
just a clouded memory of the way it was back then.
Not a call from anyone, friend or family,
by himself on Christmas Day, not the way it was meant to be.
On a cold Christmas morning, church goers hurry by,
the old man sits and watches, with a teardrop in his eye.
No one pays attention, no one is aware,
no one seems to see the shut-in sitting there.
No internet, no Facebook, no one taught him how,
wish he had long ago; it'd be useful now.
A black lab, his company, curled up on the floor,
like his master, old and tired, can't move fast anymore.
The old man sits and waits in his wheelchair,
for a visit or a call from someone, somewhere.
Merry Christmas my old friend, Happy New Year,
words he's been waiting for; that's all he wants to hear.
Christmas Is Hard On The Lonely Poem
Featured Shared Story
This is a sweet but sad poem. I wished that it had a happier ending. We must remember to always pay it forward. There are many ways.
The Old Man
©
Ziggy71
Published by Family Friend Poems December 2021 with permission of the Author.
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