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Ghosts Upon A Stage

written by: Steve Pearson



Around them lie the feasts of Christmas
like ghosts upon a stage,
beyond the hand of the huddled listless,
displaced and disengaged.
About them and without them, their society
rises to toast the day,
preening and shining their lives brightly,
like shiny children at play.
People of a lower world descend to mire,
the table of the least,
absent the outrageously glittering choir
of the lavishly bloated feast.
Collection of the fallen, lesser chosen-ones,
seeking scant deliverance,
raw and painful hunger in their frozen bones,
are treated with indifference.
They're fading beneath the bejewelled lights
like ghosts upon a stage,
with nothing beyond their Noel midnights
but the bars of an absent cage.

Series Navigation<< THE CHRISTMAS SPIRITChristmas Airport >>
Steve Pearson

Steve Pearson

JUNE 2017 AUTHOR OF THE MONTH at Spillwords.com
That's me at the front of the photo. I'm an atheist, socialist, humanist, poet and soon to be novelist. From here to there and a lot of shit in the middle. That's life.
Steve Pearson

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