When I hear sidewalk Santa’s screaming bell then ‘tis the season of shopping hell Christmas jammed up against Halloween. Santa smokes a blunt, a tragically blasé beggar making the holiday scene. No one knows but I choose to believe and you can feel free to call me naive but, someday, there will come a time when Christmas will not be swaddled in malaise and what was done once will be done again. No one knows your epiphany’s appearance that God, right now and always, is with us.
Thank You for being part of this poetry community. If you like this poem, give it a heart.
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