Christmas comes but once a year,
Supposedly full of goodwill and cheer.
Pause awhile way after dark,
In the cities stations and parks.
Ladies topple in five inch heels,
Swearing loudly with looks to kill.
Evidently, unable to resist the call,
Men openly piss against the walls.
What can only be described as pigs swill,
Is unceremoniously deposited at will.
The night creeps in to a sinister zone,
Out of the darkness tortured souls roam.
Hauntingly, alas with no warm home,
For them there is no goodwill or cheer.
One only sees the loneliness and fear.

Breda Ware