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  • Connor Pohlman, Creative Corner & Opinion Editor

The Ghost of Christmas ∞

I open up my eyes and I see it there

He looks around the corner, but he can’t dare to bear

She taps it on the shoulder, says come in, sit right there

We all take a moment, but it says its rude to glare

Draw a picture perfect, fit it all in the lines

That clock on the wall’s been there for so long

Cast the bucket in the well of memories left behind

Where have all the flowers gone?

Some say the graveyards and some behind the ear

The drifters and rebels are stuffed in the barrel

There’s known to be some that brush along against the field

If there’s such a thing as love, then it can’t just be feral

I have my wits about me, but now it's got me in the cold

He scrapes and claws and gnashes, but to it it’s grown old

She sits on a mountain of Knox-worthy gold

We all seem to follow, but it says it can’t mold

The smoke in the chimney is burning my envy

It takes just a moment, allow it to breathe

All in all, where the house is you grew up to remedy

It feels like you’re chosen, truth is you’re just free

Then again, it’s a burden to carry on the back

Don’t allow it to break you, nothing lasts forever

Except, the One whose name was on the invitation card rack

The address too familiar, one not able to remember

I see it in the garden, it’s coat matches the green grass

It shows me two children, they both look like me

I look back to it, it’s old how much time passed?

He will bear the chains scraping he’ll imagine him yelling

“Your ghost of Christmas past will be the only present under the tree

The only gift you’ll have that you’ll work to give to me”

She took it by the hand when it’s olive branch extended

She saw everything at once that once was

She viewed mine, his, and hers and all ours with reverence

It’s the ghost of what could’ve been

It’s the ghost of what already has been

It’s the ghost of Christmas

So that must mean it’s eternal

I see it in everything, in love, in hate, the nights in the spring,

He’s got it in in him to disallow all the venom

She takes her blankets, throws them on, she’s all but tainted

We all hear a hymn, it’s right in front of our faces: What good is living the life you’ve been given, if all you do is stand there in place?

Not one ghost defines you

Because the present has no shadows

The past is in the past

And what’s yet to come will follow

And look how far you’ve come

Just to get here and witness

So don’t allow a silver screen

To steal all life’s riches

I look at the ghost, it’s tint is blue

He looks at the ghost, with blue as hue

She looks at the ghost, whose blue is new

We look at the ghost, it’s fake, it’s You.

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