Christ mass comes but once a year,
Celebrate with lusty cheer.
Only one and thirty days, left to go.
Commercial days, to get the presents ,O.
August now the count is started,
Marked with lumps of melted.
Advent chocolate.
To remember that stable manger,
Now long corroded in that,
Time in Bethlehem.
Rush to get the gifts and presents,
Forget,not.
Not any one?
Turkey, Duck, Goose or Pullet.
Ham, Beef, or even the Lamb.
Nuts, pudding, fruit, rum.
All this I watch in insulare environment.
I make no comment drole.
In this closed and walled confinement.
I have 12 Christmases to Parole.
2007-11-16
00:43:52
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4 answers
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asked by
Anonymous
in
Poetry