The moment I stopped believing

The twinkling lights, a soft glow,

masking the truth in winter’s snow.

My nephew’s voice, a spark, a fire,

a question hung—unmasked desire.

Santa’s magic once danced in the air,

now memories fade, worn thin with despair.

A postcard creased, colors long gone,

faded cheer in a world of dawn.

The myth cracked under a weight of years,

a child's laughter tangled with fears.

In this moment, I grasped the end,

and wished to rewind, to believe again.