First World Christmas


First World Christmas

The days are creeping by. The lights are getting brighter. The drummer boy is marching. Angel is singing on high.
The winds blow the words of Christmas. Technology filters its theme. Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
Jingle goes the sleigh bells of the south.
Her matriarch long gone.

Daddy’s dead way back when. His bones are naked and cold.
The bird will sing no more. Not that I will hear.
Sister stole the bird to secure her Christmas cheer.
Merry Christmas. Nevermore-Nevermore

Ring the bell for Christmas
Smile – and don’t forget to brush your teeth
Merry Christmas Merry Christmas

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