These Christmas cards
Make me sick
As it hurts to admit
They’re reminders
Of everything good
So intangible
For those still plagued
Here and now

When today must sting
Even worse
After seeing friends’ lives
Nearly perfect
Despite what flaws
Remain hidden
Behind winter scenes
Caught in time

On colorful sheets
Surely blinding
With their fakest grins
Always beaming
While mocking my truth
Much less brighter
Than sunshine believed
Better shared

Since loss doesn’t stretch
Over distance
Created by age
Soon expected
Where kids yield jobs
Like religions
Only money can breed
During sex

If your past means less
Seeking futures
Finding sterile success
Beneath failures
Far from that lie
Believed nature
Every poem depicts
Fighting back

Admitting how pain
Frees us once
Before loneliness
Speaks now forever
Against silence
Family is missing
Demanding we keep
Talking small.

• J. Pigno