Sadness lined the wrinkles of a father,
His head hung low as he stood with his family waiting to see Santa.
His heart sank as he listened to his children whisper their Christmas wishes,
Knowing full well that they would not receive what they wanted from Santa
As they walked away, his head hung lower
Wishing for a true Christmas miracle, to save his family from the poverty,
That poverty that has now grown on his heart.
A tear he held back from his blue colored eyes,
This is why he never truly loved Christmas time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This gave me goosebumps Brittainie... The mood is set right away, wonderful. Perhaps you could break up the first few lines? 'His head hung low as he stood with his family waiting to see Santa. His heart sank as he listened to his children whisper their Christmas wishes, Knowing full well that they would not receive what they wanted from Santa' They are a bit long and while you have lines half the size it is just a tiny bit disruptive to the flow. I love the details you added: 'blue colored eyes' But the last line truly pulled everything together finely. I like the insight it adds to the father.