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Leanne Sweeney

of

Kildare, Ireland

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happy christmas

by

Leanne Sweeney

It has been given to me,
to use, to love, to set free.
Yesterday I leaped and thrived,
today I come to terms with it-I have died.
Nothing inside me can assist this pain
I have no ability to keep myself sane,
"how I wish it could be christmas everyday"
It doesn't make everything ok.

I hear bells alright,possibly funeral bels,
I feel so empty, my mind swells,
"And so this is christmas, and what have you done?"
Make things a lil better and present me with a gun!
Mellodramatic I know, I know,
I should be dreaming of happiness and snow.
But christmas to me is like a ball and chain,
how I could consume all Winter rain.

I feel so powerful, there's so much to be said
yet weak and isolated, wanting to be dead,
I love my God, but why cant I love what He gave me?
I really wish I could jusy be grateful for all that I see
Nobody wants to know me, nobody cares
I feel catagorised into a bundle of lifes spares.
Worth nothing, useless, to be an unimportant person in life-
My only friend is an image of a knife.