| Now why this man’s soul was bleeding
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| The angel had to understand
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| So invisible, he stood by him
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| And then gently touched his hand
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| Which caused the man to stand there still
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| Despite the winter’s cold
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| And while he stood there in that trance
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| The angel read his soul
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| It seemed the man was not always like
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| The man he had become
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| And that angel wondered how that change had happened
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| And when it had begun
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| The man had been born to a kind and religious family
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| And raised in the midwest
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| And all throughout his childhood
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| This man, clearly, had been blessed
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| He grew up believing, among other things
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| Man was made in the image of god
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| He went to school, observed all rules
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| While working very hard
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| He had always tried to help others
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| Excelled at nearly every task
|
| And when he’d graduated high school
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| Of course, he was the first one in his class
|
| And in his eighteenth summer
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| When it was time for him to leave
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| He had offers from several colleges
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| All of them ivy league
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| And at college in all his studies
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| He always received straight «a"s
|
| And when he tried his hand in theater
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| He got the lead in the senior play
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| It appeared to nearly everyone
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| There was no talent that he lacked
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| And for three years on the football team
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| He was, the star quarterback
|
| And there he also met the girl
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| Who did become his wife
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| With her, his world was now complete
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| He had the perfect life
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| When they had graduated college
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| They were wed in a ceremony quite grand
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| Then they moved to new york
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| In a dream they seemed caught
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| Where all had been perfectly planned
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| She decorated their park avenue apartment
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| In a 1920's art-deco style
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| And six months after they had moved in
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| She told him, they would soon be having a child
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| And after their first ultrasound
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| He knew they were having a son
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| Their lives could not have been better
|
| And they had only just begun
|
| Together they arrived early at the hospital
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| On the delivery date
|
| The father was taking no chances
|
| And did not want to risk being late
|
| But while waiting outside the delivery room
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| He could tell that something was going wrong
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| For too many doctors were rushing in
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| With none coming out for too long
|
| When her own doctor finally came out
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| With several nurses at his side
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| He said that his wife had started hemorrhaging
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| And despite their best efforts, she died
|
| Then in an effort to console him
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| A nurse gave him his newborn to hold
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| But from the way the child felt limp in his arms
|
| He knew there was still more bad news to be told
|
| The doctor then gave the prognosis
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| As gently as anyone could
|
| But before he could finish explaining
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| The father only too well understood
|
| The child had been cut off from oxygen
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| For minutes, which is far too long
|
| The damage was now irreversible
|
| His brain permanently malformed
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| He’d never hold a job
|
| Learn to read or ever talk
|
| And it would be a miracle
|
| If the child even learned how to walk
|
| And with those words the father felt
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| His entire world falling apart
|
| And he stumbled for the words to express
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| The tearing inside of his heart
|
| He cried out, why did god have to take her
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| While she was still so young
|
| And then as if to cut him deeper
|
| Leave this thing here as his son
|
| «please explain to me god’s wisdom
|
| How could he decide
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| To take from me my precious wife
|
| While leaving this alive
|
| There is no reason for this life
|
| Why does he even exist
|
| And if he had never been born
|
| There is no way he’d have ever been missed
|
| If man is made in god’s image
|
| Then something here is surely amiss
|
| For there is nothing of god
|
| Nothing of god
|
| Nothing of god
|
| Nothing of god
|
| Nothing of god in this"
|
| And then he asked for the child
|
| To be placed in a state run home
|
| And after he had signed the papers
|
| He walked into that night alone
|
| And in this world he found unkind
|
| He built a wall around his mind
|
| And every year he’d add new parts
|
| Until it had also enclosed his heart
|
| He kept his job and paid his debts
|
| As he slowly became a silhouette
|
| Of a man walking among the tombs
|
| While living his life within his wounds
|
| He distanced himself from all his friends
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| Even his sisters and brothers
|
| And as time it went by, he developed his eyes |
| So they could only see the flaws in others
|
| With this final glimpse, the angel stepped away
|
| And the man shook himself out of his trance
|
| Then continued his walk back towards his home
|
| And few would have given his soul half of a chance
|
| And the angel himself felt helpless
|
| As he watched that old man there
|
| So he did what even humans do
|
| And he quickly said a prayer
|
| And as the prayer flew to his lord
|
| The angel did decide
|
| To carefully follow the old man
|
| And stay closely by his side
|
| For on this night can one deny
|
| The gift of a more sympathetic eye
|
| To cast upon our fellow man
|
| And on this night to understand
|
| The frailty of childhood dreams
|
| Like fireflies over summer streams
|
| And if one dared to remove time’s veil
|
| Could one retrace those childhood trails?
|
| But whispers in the winter’s wind
|
| Told of rescued dreams, forgiven sins
|
| And who among us shall be deemed
|
| To rescue some forgotten dream?
|
| So on this night of christmas eve
|
| As once again the spirits weave
|
| Its snowswept dreams and colored lights
|
| With bits of magic into each life
|
| And as the snow comes gently down
|
| Its soul intent to reach the ground
|
| To cover scars the world still feels
|
| Perhaps to give them time to heal
|
| For as men invest in money
|
| And professors in what they know
|
| God invests in mercy
|
| Like winter invests in snow |