THIS CHRISTMAS TREE, BORN OF SORROWS

THIS CHRISTMAS TREE, BORN OF SORROWS

This Christmas tree, born of sorrows
Broken dreams, lost tomorrows

Sterile in its beauty bright

Frigid without loving light

Even with its tiny toys

Cannot manufacture joy

Echoing such silence loud

Lasting from vile words too proud

While those who see it with despair

Pine away with earthbound prayer

Hoping for that future day

When the Child of Might will have His say

And comfort all who suffer now

And comfort all who suffer now.