My Father Christmas passed away
When I was barely seven.
At twenty-one, alack-a-day,
I lost my hope of heaven.
Yet not in either lies the curse:
The hell of it's because
I don't know which loss hurt the worse-
My God or Santa Claus.
The Sceptic
Robert Service
(3)
Poem topics: away, christmas, father, god, heaven, hope, loss, lost, Valentine's Day, santa, Santa Clause, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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