Appease On Earth

I know that it’s supposed to be
a time to tell the hopeful truth,
and share our love with those who are
around. But some don’t care for hope,
and give up truth to win at
Lord-knows-what.

So all the stockings are hung crooked

We have the power and the sight;
and with humility, we might
share hopeful truth with everyone
who breathes. But such is not our way:
we want to win, and decorate
our world with trophies of it.

So all the stockings are hung crooked

So parties pack their many pews
with those who will embrace their views
of what this world should be and
what it is. And truth’s left beggaring,
to wander out into the snow
and go wherever it might go,
to find some lonely artist, priest,
or mom to let it in –

Yes, all the stockings are hung crooked

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