A reflection on the book, A Christmas Carol, from the perspective of Ebenezer Scrooge
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My skin had long touched the cold,
But still so fixed was my faraway look
That I had not stirred, had not trembled--
For the mind makes one forgetful
As it travels into the depths of a longing,
Seeking its own way through the windows
Of the huts gazing at my palace.
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What a sight to see them bent in prayer,
Thanking they have, forgetting they had none,
For the little table once starving
Now sat contented and uncomplaining.
What a sight to see the little ones jump
With delight upon that meager banquet
Of rawboned chicken and stale bread.
Or see the brightly-lit windows
That seemed a thousand lanterns,
Floating from it the merriest of songs
And the loudest of laughters--
For all was just once-upon-a-time.
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Now, I could not count the many times I sighed,
Nor could I leave until the lights died down.
That simple joy and serenity I seek
I could not find in this blessed night.
This night that had never brought me such delight,
Nor sang the merriest of songs
And laughed the loudest of laughters--
For my Christmas was never once-upon-a-time.
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