These gaily wrapped boxes
Stand guard 'neath the tree
Silent sentinels of joy
Some for you, some for me
Those, right near the corner
Seem to glitter much less
Colors and ribbons now dour
And darker, I confess
For my heart was not in it
As the paper I did fold
Knowing they were frozen
Truly never to grow old
Christmas presents they are
But present are not
The small hands whose presence
Would occupy that spot
Rending the paper
Flaying it away
To bubble and chuckle
On another Christmas Day
Life does go on
That can't be in doubt
But it's vitality is dimmed
By one less happy shout
So now and on forward
The day will be less pleasant
As our minds do ring hollow
For the ghosts of Christmas present.
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