Join me, friend, in a rhyme
of the painful and sublime,
as I remember
every late December
in my sixty-sixth Christmas time.
Joy and sadness, unsurpassed
like a magnifying glass -
I recall my spirit rise and fall
before a decorated tree, so tall,
remembering Christmas past.
With my favorite toy I'd play,
or alone, my love had gone away -
sometimes blessed, sometimes cursed.
Either way, my...
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