ANTOA POETRY: Black Christmas

ANTOA POETRY: Black Christmas
Black Christmas

Mine isn’t about snow,

Little shinning trees,

And decorated boxes.

But it’s cold without snow,

When the harmattan joins

To celebrate with us on the street.

The atmosphere is filled

With freedom.

Mama cares less about the

Time I return home.

I could go to places as a teen

Where you find eighteens.

The day is blacker than

Black Friday.

You get free stuff without

Coupon codes.

On that day,

Strangers no longer

Look strange.

We say:

 “Happy Christmas!”

And wave with a smile.

We go to see Santa.

He’s black and the color

Of his clothes reminds us

Of the rice and stew mama

Made.

It’s a day we really wish

We could put on pause

and pray school never resumes.

By Elijah Christopher

Elijah Christopher
Elijah Christopher is a journalist at A New Touch Of Africa, is also a creative writer, a poet, and an IT enthusiast. He contributed to the collaborative poem written in celebration of Edwin Morgan Centenary, the first Glasgow poet laureate and Scottish national poet from the University of Glasgow. He loves meeting people and learning about new places, cultures, events, and lifestyles.
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