Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #54: Modernize the nativity story. Make it edgy and poignant. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100, will be placed first on our Spotlight page, and have their piece sent out via newsletter, exclusively. When sharing to social media, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
We Sing a Song of Refugees
The northern star will cast a glow
You follow it and pray although,
We do not like what we don't know,
We have no room for you.
We have no extra cloth nor bed
There is no place to rest your head
And do not ask to break our bread,
We have no room for you.
Your home is now a crumbled heap
Your men are dead, your women weep
But that is not for us to reap,
We have no room for you.
The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
Are none of what we fear the most
We have no duty as your host,
We have no room for you.
Avert your eyes and just ignore
The brown skin babies washed ashore
We'll smear the blood on our own doors,
We have no room for you.
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