On that cold Christmas Eve we stood in the cold
Our eyes fixed upon the nativity scene
Mama prayed for Father to come home
No doubt my brother Tommy prayed for a bike
I prayed that my mother finds her smile
We havent seen it for so long
Baby Jesus must have been listening
Because I heard Mama laugh as she watched a little boy climb in the manger crib
The warmest place on earth
He's just a man and God made plenty of them
Pull the trigger
Clear your mind
This is your job
Red coats us inside and out
My hands white
Should be red
Pull the trigger
Pull the trigger
No bullets
Gun falls to the ground
I mutter a prayer I learned as a child
My turn to be at someone's mercy
Silk around my neck
I love the feeling
Now gently squeeze
Squeeze till there's a blur
Above me are beams
From a table,
I fix the silk around the beam
And attach it to my neck
I almost jumped
Thorns twisted to make a crown
Appear on a man
Sadness for him pierced my heart
I removed the silk from my neck
Knelt down in tears
Through my tears and sorrow I prayed
Christmas lights blind me as I walk down the street
Don't feel like Christmas
Not with my toyshop, my little business shut down
Picking up cans of soup and beans and bags of fruit was the task of the day
Now I walk
Craving beer
Afraid once I start I wont stop
Of course I can't afford the stuff no how
So I walk
Walked till my legs bout gave out
Needing rest, I followed a man inside a church
The interior painted my soul, dark
Turns out the man I followed was a priest
"God be with you, my son"
"God ain't with me, lost everything this year. Can't even afford food."
"Yes, hard times are upon us, but Our Lord weeps with us."
He lit a purple candle on the alter
"People rarely come to church, I fear this place may shut down."
Together we shed a tear
His agony and mine weren't too different
"That candle I lit represents hope. People out there are celebrating consumerism, not Christmas. In hear we are awaiting the birth of Christ."
Hope
I cower in my house
Afraid to acknowledge my faith
I sowed a tiny crucifix and a miraculous medal in the ligning of my coat
The whispering wind tells a tale of an old man taken to the hospital
He was beaten nearly half to death for praying the rosary in public
I knelt down and cried
Is that the extent of my devotion to Christ?
In my shame, I walk the beaten path, rosary in hand asking for Our Lady's intercession
I pray in silence, but I do it in public
Maybe the fire will grow in me and the faithful rise up to set fire to the world
It's 45 degrees out
The coldest morning of early fall
In the far left of the field,
The players kneel along with their coach
And ask for the blessings of our Lord
What is it about me that makes people run?
The polite questions and pleasant hellos are for them
When I ask a question, any question it never seems to get answered
The walls swallow me whole
No since screaming
No one will hear me
The Holy Spirit comes to me in the rain
And reminds me of my friends in heaven
