When Santa Claus Was Real - A poem by Codey

I once mentioned Codey and his poem on my post. Guess that Christmas is the right time for introducing this poem which I love a lot. I'm not a good reviewer of all kind and for the fact that it's poem, I have not a single technical skill of all, I let you all do the "judging". I just have only one line for the writing "it's sad and beautiful as well". Hope you all love it the way I do. Merry Christmas!!!

(Click on the title or here for the original post with audio version narrated by Blue Ben W.)

When Santa Claus Was Real
a poem by codey

There was a time, not so long ago,
when my days were filled with play.
Firetrucks, frisbees and basketball,
and a lawn sprinkler on a hot day.
Wrestling matches and brier patches
left me scraped, scratched and bruised.
I wore proudly, as badges of honor,
each new band-aid my mother used.
Tho the pain was real from these injuries,
I seldom needed a drug.
The pain was eased by my mothers love,
along with a kiss and a hug.

At five, I headed off to school
with scrubbed face and gap toothed smile.
Wearing my innocence on my sleeve,
sporting clothes of the latest style.
With the barely controlled eagerness
of youthful impatience to learn and age,
I was sure I'd soon know everything
but was assigned my own little cage.
Judged and categorized by others,
I was grouped where they thought I belonged.
I innocently accepted these labels,
not realizing how I'd been wronged.

Now, older and much wiser,
I see with the eyes of a youth.
I'm now more able to discern
what's said but what's the truth.
The cruelty of a child is open,
the cruelty of the old less revealed.
The young not having learned to speak
in a way with true meanings concealed.
Why can't those of us labeled different
just be a different kind of same?
Why, for being how we were made,
should we hang our heads in shame?

Now living the life I've been given,
despair feeding distrust and ire,
and the eating away of my soul
by unquenchable internal fire,
leaves me wondering if those called normal
aren't just following a piper's refrain
and those of us, unquestionably mad,
aren't the only ones truly sane.
The days are long gone when a kiss and a hug
were all it took to heal.
I'd give all I have to go back in time
to when Santa Claus was still real.