Christmas Cut
T'was the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Not a creature was stirring
Not even a mouse!
Except for Rebekah
For she was not sleeping,
All alone in the corner
She was silently weeping!
On her was looming
The first day of dread
The tomorrow of sorrow
Emotional dead!
First she'll awake
Force a fake smile
OK at first
But after a while
The family arrive
Dinner is made
The mountain of food
Makes the false smile fade!
Each mouthful sickens
She'll want to throw up
It's tinged with the guilt
That forces the cut.
But the cut is a gift
The freedom and light!
Gives her the strength
To keep up the fight!
© REBEKAH SMITH November 2002.
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