One day to Xmas, my thoughts

I just picked a few area of concentration for Xmas though, I want it different, after all Senator David Mark had Christmas dinner with Corp Members in his Villa yesterday. It's something new, so here is my area of concentration.

As I lay me down, thinking of tomorrow, December 25, Xmas! I begin to wonder it's splendor, the fuss about a rowdy market and hustling families trying to make a way for themselves, many did die for this cause, lesser road accidents to God's glory, and I remember the reason for the season is specifically LOVE, it got me wondering if we actually do that. Let the needy see the season, don't have fun alone, forget the HAVES and face the HAVE NOT for if God have not given us what we never had, our doom do smell like odour.

Dear young ladies, desist from too many make ups it's Xmas and not carnival, Harmattan already provided the powder, let's not look cloned tomorrow.

Remember to be simple and smart, Xmas meal has refused to grace my nostrils, and if you have got a younger sis, a teenage soul, take her out, don't let a friend get her preg for Xmas. Below is my last Xmas story, Enjoy the feel of what it tastes like, having to feel your innocent ones pain.

       Tims Story
In the midst of a maddening crowd lay Tim on the floor fighting for freedom, the dust has made her earthern and her tears in the soil had formed a clay, with her mothers hand at Akimbo and a Cain at the ladies hand,who had already beaten her mercilessly, what happened to Tim is a normal story, but people in the neighboring houses saw it all. It only took young men's strength to stop the angry mother.

Nothing looked like a being inside of her, or besides Tim is too young to become a mother, all we saw and felt is a crying child, the innocent lass has wondered how life do become a mockery on her part, a once happy child, reduced to nothing by a mere sperm, she had been a quiet being and no attention seeker, a little moment of excitement for penny and Tim lost it all, all for the celebration. He had sworn he knew nothing about it, leaving the tears to become even heavier, at this time, the crowd had embarked on a doubtful journey, "it isn't Tim" everyone told another in doubt that such a beloved soul could hurt herself. Everyone knew it should be him, for it was him who gave her comfort in a brotherly stead, we all waited for time to confirm our doubts.

  Tim called us out in one beckon, every one moved with accurate marching speed trying to feel the words of a pained soldier, yet with no protruding belly, she stood in her decorated dusty being, a girl of 16, worth all the grace of a woman, we all waited for her story, but all I heard was a cryful "sorry!" It came from Tim, it happened with a sharp speed, and her mother had sighed and frown at the lost sheep, it took time for her words to sink inside our ears, then came tears, all on our faces, each soul wept in abandonment, knowing it is the handiwork of God yet in a painful form. I felt for the young mother who will now cater for two when no man lived to support. "It's a mistake" the people said leaving Tim once again to her lonely shattered self. She looked on her mother who had mattered so much to her, and had wondered the aftermath.

Please I know it's Xmas already don't condemn me for this story, I just wanted to remind you of that lonely soul living around your crib, don't let them molest her, there are Tims in our areas, it's Xmas again, show her love.
      Love you all and good morning.