C Is For Christmas
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“C” for Christmas,
(not cancer…)
The packages were bright,
the tensile shinny,
the tree full of sparkle,
bright.
Mom gone now,
but grandma…
took up where she left off.
She did not want to go,
but she does not hurt…
anymore.
Dear God,
for Christmas,
skip me first and last,
put my father on instead.
He needs things,
that I can not buy,
that perhaps,
the value
is too
high?
He needs hope.
Something only you,
supply.
He needs to laugh,
and be home with
us.
Thank you for grandma,
and papa,
they are trying… very hard.
But father,
we miss you.
Come
home.
Copyright © Ann Foster | Year Posted 2019
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