Bitter tears sit upon dead eyes.
Christmas lights refracted through
droplet of ice, crystallised,
but no one sees. They just trudge by.
Coldest night, frozen sight.
Shattered crystals of a soul
taken to the light.
Spare some change.
We should change the world instead.
Tune out those echoing voices,
that hateful chanting chorus
rumbling through your head.
Telling us to walk past.
Don't look them in the eye.
They are there by choice,
these voices will lie.
On the cold hard streets,
a deep-freeze,
refrigerated people carrier,
tossing away the frozen cadavers.
In times of yore
they would have said
bring out your dead,
as they flung them
on the back of a carriage,
to bury with the rest of those
they can't fit in cold storage.
Have a heart,
as you sit in front
of your fire berth.
Warming hands
against the coldest nights
on earth.
Give them a voice,
those who don't have
what you have - a lifestyle choice.
Thanks for reading
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