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Twas the night before XmasTwas the night before Christmas, in a town called Bethlehem, Sir Joesph sought to find a place for him and his pregnant wife to hang, Mary waited patiently as Joseph walked the town all day. No one in town was serving hot coffee or tea, just a cold shoulder, The innkeeper even turned them away, No one in the town had not a place for them to lay, There was no motel 6 or Quality inn just an old stable with hay, Mothers were in the kitchen, like Martha Stewart, Papas were drinking their fine wine and sweet breads in a rocking chair, While the children sang songs and cuddled in their cribs, You see their lives where just too busy to even care, Twas the night of rejection by a town, not knowing a savior was near, Oh Blessed Child of Mary, to whom the world would revere, A Child who would shine on a town of rejectors, they now have a King to share My, how the story ends, all doors now open, no rejection, here Suddenly everyone seems to care, About a child born in Bethlehem, As the town began to celebrate, Remembering both God and His gift, The extraordinary light He gave to them, Should give our spirits an extra lift. Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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