The Sceptic Poem by Robert William Service
The Sceptic
Rating: ★4.5
My Father Christmas passed away
When I was barely seven.
At twenty-one, alack-a-day,
I lost my hope of heaven.
Yet not in either lies the curse:
The hell of it's because
I don't know which loss hurt the worse --
My God or Santa Claus.
Monday, January 13, 2003
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4/18/2024 7:06:20 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Makes me wonder if Service was a closet Unitarian.