In Time For Christmas


Besuited power-men

are strutting

their stuff

getting ready

to deliver 

for Christmas.


Santa comes early 

to some in the tents

washed up and washed out

in the cold and the wet.

He’s playing toy soldiers 

with real missiles and bombs.

His bombs made a carpet

of what once were homes.

There’s nowhere to go,

nowhere to hide

for the starved 

and the maimed

they’ll remember this Christmas

where genocide grows.



https://oddballmagazine.com/poem-by-lynn-white-22/

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