Little Baby Jesus
The crowded streets are cold
And her bottle's getting dry
She can hear the Baby Jesus
As he's singing in the sky
Cold rain is pouring down
There's winter in the air
People spending money
And there's christmas everywhere
With a bottle for her sickness
And a toast for the healed
A quick prayer for the wounded
On her christmas battlefield
A street light is her holy star
as her christmas make-believe
And a cardboard on the pavement
Is her home for christmas eve
She has no christmas gift
No christmas story she can tell
She's got a basket full of junk
And a body she can sell
Some says she'll never be forgiven
For her dirty kind of trade
But if one can buy forgivness
she already has paid
The sun is always shining
Down on some folks head
They never have to starve
Or to beg for daily bread
They give each other gifts
While Baby Jesus cry in vain
As he is begging them to stop
And help a human in the rain
Men will call her hooker
As their rising appetite
Make them use her body
In their lousy lonely night
It is cold and it is christmas
The whole world is standing still
And since noone else will help her
Let's hope Baby Jesus will...
Copyright © Steinar Gismeroy Olafsen | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment