Sunday, December 25, 2016

Father Forgive Me For Not Posting This Last Night

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'Twas the night before,
 the night before Christmas,
 and all through the house,
 not a creature was stirring
 Paul's Starbucks coffee,
(since he drinks it black
  and to the rimtop of the cup).
  When up on the rooftop did appear
  Paul with his tarp gear.

  No presents, no reindeer.
  So he was snug with his
  nightcap, er, in his nightcap
  when the winds did reappear,
  and he said, when the plants
  blew down for the second time,
"that's not our problem, dear."
  
As visions of future sugarless coffees
  danced in his head.
  
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