My Lost Christmas. NFS

There was the dog always smiling and the woman hopelessly caring. The presents and gifts wrapped at the knees near the always bizarre Christmas tree. The floors and the ceilings never mattered in this closed eyed endless dream. For who cares if those times are gone? I can see it all behind my eyes. I can feel the feeling as I die and I can surely touch them when I’m gone. Such, such were those Christmas morns!