Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.145.135.237

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

Note: To the tune of "Little Drummer Boy"


Come, they sold me, to Macy’s this year
The perfect gifts await for holiday cheer

I’ll push and shove my way through the crowd
Cuss if I don’t succeed, for crying out loud

Stomp on feet of shoppers with my heels
Clear a path to line's front as everyone reels

Bent o’er in pain they grouse, “Who is this cruel witch?”
And I scream back to them in a very high pitch

To reach fine gifts I create travesty
Then single-handedly grab the last Nativity

Baby Jesus is smiling at me
What have I done to find Thee
Done to find Thee

Sadly, I glimpse back at those I’ve attacked
And hand the manger scene to one farther back

The truest gift we find is not on the shelves
We’ll never find this gift within our lost selves

If we forget to share the holiday joys
With shopping schemes and ill-conceived ploys

Make way for kinder shoppers courteously
To find the greatest gift called humanity

Just leave the shops behind and visit your church
And bow before His grace from the pew as you perch

Baby Jesus is smiling at me
For now I’ve found Thee
Now I’ve found Thee

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required