I found a lonely Christmas cracker hiding in a drawer, Between a rubber duck, a sock, and something I’m not sure, Its paper looked a little tired, its ribbon slightly bent, As if it knew that many years had quietly been spent. Oh, pull the cracker gently, love, For time has worn it thin, It’s seen the fights, the drunken nights, The chaos and the din, But still it waits for Christmas cheer, A joke, a hat, a toy — A silly bit of cardboard Holding memories and joy. I almost threw it in the bin — it seemed so past its prime, But then I heard it whisper, “I’ve survived since ’89!” So I sat beside the twinkling tree and brushed away some dust, And realised even useless things can hold a world of trust. Oh, pull the cracker softly, dear, It’s fragile as a sigh, It’s carried all the Christmases You thought had passed you by, In every tiny paper crown There’s laughter, loss, and light — A silly little treasure On a quiet winter night. And if it makes a feeble pop, Or none at all — that’s fine, For Christmas isn’t measured In the bang or in the shine, It’s in the hands that pull it, And the hearts that still remain, Through all the years of madness, All the joy and all the pain. So here’s to broken crackers, To memories soft and small, To silly jokes and paper hats We halfway can recall, For even when we laugh through tears, We know what matters most — A little love, a little light… And those we’ve loved and lost.
