Priorities

Hello my friend, please dim the light

A tale I have for you tonight

About a man, who long ago

Was hanging up the mistletoe

For ‘twas December, and time for he

To decorate the Christmas tree

This man; a husband, a father, too

His family should come first, it’s true

And yet ‘twas something, about this man

He always tried, hard as he can

To make sure all his neighbors, friends

Thought of him highly, through rosy lens

Even when his family’d thirst

His image always would come first

When the world would look, they’d see

This sad and false reality

And on that day, as he hung the tree

A decision forced to make, was he

The ornaments were not enough

To fill all of the branches up

‘Twas just enough, in this small crate

For half the tree to decorate

One side, beauty; one side, bare

And as he finished, the man stood there

As they shifted, his eyes looked slow

Between the room and bay window

Who would see the lights? Decide

His family? Or the world outside

He did not want them all to see

He can’t afford to dress this tree

Frowning, as his thoughts collide

He chose to face the lights outside

When he was done, he turned to bear

His five year old son standing there

“Hello Daddy,” he said to Dad

“What’s wrong? The tree, it looks so sad.”

Looking at the boy, he said

“Don’t fret my son, it’s time for bed.”

He tucked him in, and with a blink

For one brief moment, began to think

But just as always, his thoughts would steer

To justifying; his conscience, clear

Then, as he laid down with his wife

He smiled, proud of his false life

So now, my friend, some thoughts have I

To share with you, about his lie

For far too often, our story here

Rings true to others, both far and near

And is, I ask, it really fair?

For any true “friend” wouldn’t care

How rich, how poor, our quirks and plights

Truth is that we all have these nights

I wonder why it caused him strife

Those folks weren’t even in his life

Remember friend this story, please

And consider your priorities


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