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.