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David M. Higgins II, Publisher/Editor

David M. Higgins was born in Baltimore and grew up in Southern Maryland. He has had a passion for journalism since high school. After spending many years in the Hospitality Industry he began working in...

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  1. In sincere consideration of the many starving souls worldwide for whom there’s nothing to be thankful on Thanksgiving Day—nor any other day of the year, for that matter—COVID-19 crisis or not, I wrote the following poem.

    Pass me the holiday turkey, peas
    and the delicious stuffing flanked
    by buttered potatoes with gravy
    since I’ve said grace with plenty ease,
    for the good food received I’ve thanked
    my Maker who’s found me worthy.
    It seems that unlike the many of those
    in the unlucky Third World nation,
    I’ve been found by God deserving
    to not have to endure the awful woes
    and the stomach wrenching starvation
    suffered by them with no dinner serving.
    Therefore hand over to me the corn
    the cranberry sauce, fresh baked bread
    since for my grub I’ve praised the Lord,
    yet I need not hear about those born
    whose meal I’ve been granted instead,
    as they receive naught of the grand hoard.

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