Xmas lights are hung,
the moon is down
Santa’s on his way
Think he’ll skip Baghdad and Darfur
New Orleans, too
no safe place to land the sleigh
what’s the use anyway?
Broken vets slump in crooked doorways,
already forgotten, worse off than brothers in flag-draped coffins,
living dead;
Shock & Awe meets disgrace under pawn shop glass
Purple Heart medals alongside rusted .38’s
Swiss Army knives,
money clips, harmonicas, GI watches
Lives stolen by immoral cowards
who sleep at night in warm featherbeds
and celebrate their failure
The tunnel is dark, the shelves are bare,
the last train has departed, the fire’s out;
no cookies on the plate for Santa, no turkey
in the oven
Remember the reason for the season,
son of God, born in a manger
three kings on his trail, guided by a star
seeking something to believe in
Same need now as then -
to believe in angels
and a savior; in an unseen hand
and a well of mercy
Santa’s on his way
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