I don’t want to hear carolling,
My heart needs some consoling,
The season lost by a missing piece,
It’s once bright magic has decreased.
As I hung decorations on my tree,
The pain shrieked like a banshee,
An empty stocking hung by the fire,
No gift could give me what I desire.
The empty space will always be,
A holiday which once brought glee,
Now brings sorrow in its wake,
It’s too much for one soul to take.