When I was young,
Christmas used to be fun.
Waking my parents up at the crack of dawn.
Running downstairs to see the abundance of presents,
Arranged in a way to catch my attention.
The flashy red and green colors of the wrapping paper,
Shining brighter than the lights on the Christmas tree.
Running to the table to see if Santa ate the rich chocolate chip cookies,
Followed by the milk in the tallest glass we had.
Reading the note from Santa brought me so much joy,
Now the joy has faded.
Not waking my parents up to open my presents,
Not caring about the colors of the presents,
Not wondering if Santa ate the cookies or wrote me a note.
All the joy of Christmas has faded,
Because of growing older.