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.