• The childlike hope is gone
    Magic is no more
    Tales of Peter Pan and Santa are long gone
    What we grew up with is nothing more than sad memories
    Santa was nothing more than a happy lie, which is the best of the worst
    We hoped for things we would never get; now we hope for the love of another
    Santa never brought us what we really wanted, but we were too young and oblivious to care.
    It is so different now
    We hope for something good, but instead we end up getting a twisted version, worse than we could ever imagine
    When everything goes wrong, we can’t ask for Santa to make it better
    Or for Peter Pan to take us away to Neverland
    We must find a way to breathe when everything is wrong
    Santa was our child-like hope that someone would bring you the one thing we wanted most
    Now, the things we want most are the ones that hurt us most
    We cry over the people who will never shed a tear over us
    We are hurt; walls are built to stop anyone from hurting us again
    The walls are shattered sooner or later
    And so are we.