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Slowly time drifts by.
Ontouchable for hands and
sighs of the soul
to see friends of times past
and worlds too far to travel.
For some Christmas is
the bare sound of bells
and only a physical light
in the bottomless night.
They go
unseen, unwanted.
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Just footsteps
in the naked streets
they are
leading their life
hidden like the shepherds
or for everyone to see.
Like a child
shivering in a manger.
Still they believe
in what they can not see.
Imbi
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