‘Twas Memories of Christmas

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Please excuse the lapse in blogging.  Like the rest of you, the holidays are a wild roller coaster of emotional baggage from yesteryears.

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‘Twas memories of Christmas, before the ex-spouse
Now the courts are a trap and I am the mouse;
The stockings still boxed because I really don’t care,
I know on that day, no kids will be there;
The children all nestled and snug in their beds;
Are long ago visions in only my head;
And you in your misery, and I, an old sap,
May survive the season if we only could nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
PTSD! What’s the matter?!
Away to the window to unravel the caper:
The police? Child services? Served family court papers?
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Daring me to jump and just end it below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But some signs of a shift; tiny cracks in the mirror.
With news of some wins bringing something to cope,
I knew in a moment there must be some hope.
More rapid than eagles the updates they came,
And I rejoiced in the moment that I was really sane:
Divorce Corp! NPO!
Fix Family Courts – a good showing!
Alienation gurus!
North Dakota keep it going!
Postings to YouTube! To the Facebook walls!
Like and share, like and share, like and share all.
One of these damn things in the media WILL fly!
And we WILL see some changes before we all die!
So push up the numbers of voices for change
In text, video – whatever we can arrange
Demonstrations by roadways; hell – get on the roof
With enough of us howling; maybe they’ll see the plain proof
“Our kids have been taken!”  — This isn’t a drill.
Take the word to the streets and to Capitol Hill.
When you’ve flooded your laptop then start out on foot,
Crush tarnished judges.  The system’s kaput!
The bundles of booty from all their kickbacks,
Need to be exposed.  It is time to attack!
And while judges and attorneys use our cash getting merry
We’ll pull back the veil to make their coming year scary.
We’ll pass swift laws to make kids free to go,
Not to be abused pawns thrown about to and fro.
We’ll flood the media with stories that have real teeth,
That will draw out hard questions – the inquisitions beneath.
We’ll soon rid this world of premature kid goodbyes,
A shakeup to replace court orders full of lies.
Where judges got plump, on the cash that we earned,
We’ll laugh that fine day when we watch them get burned.
Cause when we have enough ears on the twists being said,
Soon their family court games will be nothing but dead.

Yes.  December will suck. We will sulk.  We will work,
As we figure our roles in exposing these jerks,
But in the next year, as the media swell grows,
Let’s say by next Christmas we’ll smell sweet as a rose!
And the Grinches that slayed us have had people blow whistles,
As they lose their carte blanc.  We’ve diffused all their missiles.

Peace and love to the kidless.
Soon things will be set right.
Happy Christmas to all, never give up the fight!

 

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