There is a Winterness
Which stalls the growth
The sharing of Charitable benefit.
Which storms over such greening,
And makes us frozen.
It is convention.
We know to help,
It is rooted here in our hearts.
But we are chilled to the hand.
And the reasons come quickly,
We are turned away from the Sun.
We have frost on our minds.
There is a coldness come over us,
From the sight of new Presidential Palaces.
When the people bleed to be fed.
And these gifts are being traded.
We have many backs,
And many shirts to give.
There are many wounds to heal.
All benefits are best shared,
So that everyone has know how.
(C) 2018 Christopher Thompson.
All rights reserved.