But what if he hadn’t just
Lost. That. Ache?
Even though Christmas wasn’t
His. To. Take,
Sometimes you can’t help what you long for,
When you know what you’re born to you’re wrong for.
But what comes next?
What after that?
It’s beautifully done but that
Part. Feels. Fake.
And the happy-end moral I
Just. Won’t. Take.
I like a happy end, make no mistake
But too often that longing
That lack of belonging
It’s just a thing that will not go away.
What then do you say?
What then can you say?
(For reference, see this.)
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