Friday, December 22, 2006

An awkward Christmas poem

It's crude but I tried...

Under tree are stacks of motorized cars on electric tracks, gifts for child
Candles made of wax illuminate the stacks, as young one dreams of Christmas morning wild
Snow flakes fall, garlands deck the walls, signs of magical season
Crowded shopping malls and tattered shawls accompany cold that defies reason
Twinkling lights and other Christmas sites take one back to when life made sense
Stupid fights and drunken nights lost in season’s innocence
Neighborhood tours and awe filled words as lights hypnotize
Wreaths don doors like the days of yore as on adults’ faces are etched beaming smiles
Youth lost and oft times tossed on scrap heaps of years gone by
Between the trappings that cost, tuning out what was once lost, we live and die
But we don’t truly live and to our youth give reason to reproach
Like a steel shiv a stab to where once lived drops boundless of joy & hope
So if you can look at the man staring back in the mirror
Bang spoons on pans, pretend you’re Peter Pan, and things will become clearer
If only one could ditch the vestiges of adulthood and stand in stupid awe
As we should, where we stood, and once again believe in Santa Clause