Under my Christmas tree you will find 

No gifts. No jingling bells. No cards of Christmas joy.

Under my Christmas tree you will find

Pandora's box unleashed. Sirens upon sirens. Eyes full of tears and anger.

 

My family by blood

will disperse, move on, and separate until next Christmas.

My family of friends

will unite, push forward, and link together upon our trials.

 

Back to the Holidays

means back to the lies, the drama, and those who only care about themselves.

Back to my sanctuary 

means back to the desk, the teachers, and those who truly care.

 

Inside my sancturary you will find

enough shelter for me to hide behind and cry.

Inside my sancturary you will find

enough friends that can last me a lifetime.