A Thought Not Spared
The loneliness that grips the heart
of a youth who sleeps outside
is strengthened over Christmastime
when carols call the tide.
Cold of night caress his arms
with fingers hoard by frost
while broken tips of ragged gloves
have long ago been lost.
His clothes have not seen better days
for none so far they've known,
shoes have never borne his feet
which trudge upon bare cobblestone.
The tales he tell of hunger be
and beggars simple feats;
in paper dreams, his only wish
lay wrapped between white sheets.
How soon do we forget the plight
of children on the street;
we celebrate with Xmas trees
while they from pine cones eat.
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