The Ghost of Gifts Past

The snow fell soft, a blanket on the pane,And Christmas lights cast shadows, sharp and sweet.I watched the world receive, again, again,The things they wished for, perfect and complete.But in my palm, no velvet ribbon lay,No weighted box, no shimmer in the air;Just silent knowledge at the close of day,The hollow whisper of the budget bare.I had the list, I circled what I craved,I held the promise, vivid in my mind,But when the time for purchasing was paved,The price tag stayed, a barrier unkind.I chose the coin, the safer, duller path,Believed the want was fleeting, small, and vain,And saved myself from spending's consequence and wrath,Only to find the cost was not the pain...It was the void where expectation died,The empty space beneath the fragrant tree.A present ghost that I could not have tiedBecause the purse held fast the meager fee.The cheer is bright, the music swells and rings,But I stand separate, by my own accord.The cheapest thing, sometimes, is not the things,But the memory of the joy I couldn't afford.