All so young for such a thing to experience on Christmas morning, what life would bring. |
© Copyright 2009 DJ. Venson Art work not mine Pajama Feet By DJ. Venson No sleigh bells are heard during the night, just songs from drunks under his alley light. With daybreak comes glistening snow, blanketing each roof top down below. 'It's Christmas!' yells a happy little boy, 'For being so good, Santa promised a toy.' Scrambling out of bed in his pajama feet, making a quick stop at his little potty seat. Into the living room still with an open back seat a heart is full of joy, and looking so sweet, curiously stands little Pajama Feet. For at his first glance, the room is bare, just an old sofa, a TV and a tattered chair. Then with his mind's eye, he blinks then stares, at a huge tree with twinkling bright lights, and toys galore. Little Pajama Feet, could not have wished for anything more. 'Momma! Momma!' he scamps calling her name. 'You were wrong, Santa came just the same!' Yet the house stands silent without a nary a sound or word, not a peep from his Momma could be heard. To her room, he runs knocking on the door, slowly it does open finding her on the floor. Her skin is so pale, to touch her body feels like ice. She'd passed away after kissing him, "Goodnight." With tear filled eyes, beside her he does lay, wishing that her heart would once again play. Yet no such luck, for this frightened little boy, who wishes now for Momma, instead of a toy. |