He stared out through the frosted glass
At falling flakes of white,
Distracted by the dazzling strings
Of twinkling Christmas lights.
He forced a smile of happiness
Despite his hidden fears.
He wished and hoped for normalcy
And tried to hold his tears.
They came back every holiday.
He had nowhere to hide.
The pale ones, whiter than the snow
With souls that hell denied.
The little boy of ten years old
Could never quite explain
How he could see the evil things
Without sounding insane.
His mother and his father, they
Could never understand
And so he didn’t tell them of
The ghosts of Christmas land.
With silent steps they trudged the streets,
Feet dragging on the ground.
Their empty stares and evil glares,
While making not a sound.
A watchful canine stared and barked
The pale man didn’t stop
He passed right through the guard dog, who
The young child gasped and stepped away.
The creatures turned their heads.
All monsters stared in unison,
The legion of the dead.
The spirits came through solid walls
The nightmares from a dream.
Their pitch black eyes and soulless grins;
The child lacked breath to scream.
Each one of them went in the child,
Possessing the young boy.
His thoughts and feelings slipped away
No fear. No love. No joy.
The morning came on Christmas Day.
No haunts that one could see
With even steps, he walked the hall
Towards the Christmas tree.
His parents handed him a gift
Expecting his delight.
Both gasped as he stared back at them
With eyes as black as night.