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Christmas Fairytale of London

written by: Robin McNamara



Here in my London bedsit
Alone this Christmas Eve
Once again
The clock struck midnight
Presses were empty
Fridge had nothing
The arguments from upstairs
Wasn’t going to stop anytime soon
I was beyond caring

Earlier this Christmas Eve I sat
Alone on a park bench,
I needed the fresh air
The Christmas cheer and people
Walking around shiny and happy,
Was more than I could bear

My pride stopped me from returning
Hope to the Emerald Isle
Every single Christmas
The ‘job’ meant I couldn’t
The lie was the same every year
The life of a forgotten Irishman
In London City

Unfortunate circumstances,
Shamed me into a silence
Not understood
By anyone close to me

I hadn’t anyone close to me
For decades.
Some died
Returned home
Got divorced
Moved away
Ignored me
Forgot me
Gave up the drink

Even the pubs of Irish diaspora
Returning home as strangers,
To their land of birth
An Ireland as alien to them
As England was when eighteen

I couldn’t...

I’d heard the stories of those
Who returned

The shame of admitting I’d failed
Too great to bear

So here I am in my bedsit
In cold unforgiving London
early hours of Christmas morning
Two hours away from my birthplace,
So near but yet a different world.



Christmas is a time of families being together. Spare a thought for those who aren’t at the family table at Christmas for whatever reasons.

Robin McNamara

Robin McNamara

Living in Waterford City, formerly lived in Copenhagen. Former journalist with Insight Magazine, Dublin. Likes dogs, football, coffee. Enjoys observing and watching nature change for inspiration in writing.
Robin McNamara

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This publication is part 36 of 46 in the series 12 Days of Christmas
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