Twelve Days Of Christmas - Ian Duquemin

On the twelfth day of Christmas
The sky was turning black
The winter wind began to blow
Its chill upon my back

On the eleventh day of Christmas
I watched some children play
The snow they threw while laughing
Made a winter scene cliche

On the tenth day of Christmas
A beggar raised his hand
I gave a word of sympathy
He didn't understand

On the ninth day of Christmas
A choir sang aloud
But no one even listened
They were lost within the crowd

On the eighth day of Christmas
The bells began to chime
Celebrating something
From a long forgotten time

On the seventh day of Christmas
The shops were nearly clear
While many would awake with gifts
Some would wake with fear

On the sixth day of Christmas
The bombs began to fall
Beneath the pile of rubble
Was a frightened child's call

On the fifth day of Christmas
While gun shots filled the air
Others wrapped their presents
Not a thought and not a care

On the fourth day of Christmas
The wine began to pour
While blood flowed freely somewhere else
In someone else's war

On the third day of Christmas
A star hung in the sky
But no one even noticed
What it came to signify

On the second day of Christmas
While many mourned their dead
Crackers pulled, exploded
And the corny jokes were read

On the first day of Christmas
The celebration starts
So...
Before you fill your stomachs
Take the time to fill your hearts

Ian Duquemin