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Poem	the policeman on the streets found christmas in a box tipped it down a manhole it wasn't wearing socks a little old lady nearby - the poor sod's done no harm she got hit with a truncheon for spreading false alarm the policeman then went home pleased his job was done called for his christmas dinner but dinner there was none his wife with the lodger his children gone for good he beat himself with his truncheon and lay down in his blood all the holly berries all the christmas trees gathered in the silent square brought buildings to their knees nothing comprehended why such bitter bleeding tore hate aside - redeemed a space for joy to do the feeding a ripple took the roof off sun married the rain christmas came with socks on the box refilled with grain a little old lady nearby took off her winter coat danced to where the policeman's blood was rattling in his throat she sewed him up and rolled him round to the local bank doled him out to everyone whose lives had done a blank policeman's blood and christmas socks changed every single life the children came home to freedom and the lodger kept the wife
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