A Poor Mothers Christmas Eve

Sa I lay here thinking about the lack of presents under our tree this year, I’m inspired to write a poem. My heart is breaking as I dread the sadness and disappointment in their faces tomorrow morning.


A Poor Mothers Christmas Eve

Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the place
Stomachs were empty
A tear crawled down my face.

My children all snuggled
in one little bed
A moth eaten blanket
pulled over their heads

Outside the glass
on the sidewalk did glisten
As I stood watch by the stove
For gun shots I did listen.

The tree in the living room
glimmers and glows
Bare underneath
No ribbons or bows.

Sweaters and shoes
were all that they asked for
But nothing was gotten
Because we are poor.

Tomorrow is Christmas
That’s what they say
How do I tell them
It’s just another day?



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