May Christmas Come Early Poem by John W. Hudson III

We all gather at the fire,
the circle of life
and the consequences go unnoticed.
Untitled Faster and faster,
the hysterical laugh
piercing tones,
deafing notes,
For God our father
now gloats,
as all fathers
of young and old
laugh at their silly children
now and then,
a tear rolls from
the corner of his eye,
and is this tear
sorrow or joy?
pain or pleasure?
mine or yours?
is this tear now shed
in pride or shame. . .