Sparkling lights and smokey haze,
dust and mud in sidewalk bays.
Barefoot plays in busy street.
Clothes are torn, embossed and stitched.
In their eyes you will see,
How fortunate one can be.
Sailing life in misery,
a piece of grace means world to thee.
People are busy embracing the season,
creating their lists of obstinate leisures.
Poisoned from pandemic exultancy.
Oh, If we could just imagine...
If someone would only care,
Spare some goodness in children's dream.
Let's probe that christmas indeed, was real.