Is that it?

Palms sweating
Heartbeat steady
Christmas morning
Had arrived,
As ususal
we were ready.

Mum and dad
Could not afford much,
They always did there best.
We would get spoiled
Even though we would protest.

Outside
The birds were singing
The kids were playing
Snow falls from the garden tree.
Where festive profits
Lay preying.

Inside
All was calm
A tsunami
Of wrapping paper
Rose into the air
And gently floated
To the floor
Completing it's journey
Inside the bin bag
By the front door.

All was calm
Until little sister said
making her move
With a face like dread.

We should of restrained her
And asked her to quit
Her mouth opened
Shattering the quiet
"Is that it?"

Father looked at mother
Sister looked at brother
Even the cat scarperd
And ducked for cover.

Outside the festive profits
Collapsed in fear
Removing there hoods
And wiping there tears.

Father's face
Turned a ghastly
Shade of red
His blood left his feet
And rushed straight
To his head.

"Get to your room"
His words shook
The foundations
Sister ran for her life
For her very salvation.

The atmosphere was like
The aftermath
Of a nuclear holocaust.
This crististmas
Had been murdered
This christmas
Had been lost.

Brother turned to sister
And shrugged his shoulders
Maybe one day
She would understand
Perhaps when she was older.

That it wasn't about presents
Or the size that counts
It was about family
Being together
Sharing laughter,
Eating dinner
getting full up
Watching the Bond movie
Passing out
And not waking up.

But that christmas
Lied in ruin's
Due to sisters folly
As the snow melted
into nothingness
Cast upon the festive holly.